


light, love, and other beautiful things

by elinciacrimea



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Mostly Canon Compliant, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 14:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 100,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elinciacrimea/pseuds/elinciacrimea
Summary: Princess L'Arachel has always known her role in the world, and when she embarks on her very first heroic journey, she has no expectations beyond spreading her name and bringing her usual charm and heroism to Magvel. But then she meets a girl. And things start getting...complicated.





	1. Light Rises

_One who makes their own light is never consumed by darkness._

 

_\- The Holy Book of Saint Latona_

_\---_

 

_Lady Madelaine Adelina, the crown princess of Rausten, was said to be feared by all wrongdoers and loved by all the upstanding. Since the day she had first laid hands on a blade, the princess had been long renowned for her exploits in fending back the dangerous monsters that crept into Rausten from the treacherous Darkling Woods. For her journeys, Princess Madelaine would leave the palace for months at a time and defend all she encountered who needed saving. She wielded tome and sword alike and made it look simple: her magical skills were unparalleled, and her blade swifter than lightning and twice as deadly. To face her was foolhardy; to challenge her, a death wish. It was said that she alone was near as effective as any army that could be found in the Rausten hills, to the end that she was spoken of as "the princess blessed by Latona." Even her appearance was said to call back to the ancient paintings of Their Holiness, said to be too beautiful for monsters to look upon without their eyes burning from their heads. She rode atop a stunning white mare, in armor of white and gold, radiating pure light, and the ballads spun each time a bard laid eyes on her continue to be sung to this day. It was rumored that princes and lords from as far south as Grado sought her hand - but that Princess Madelaine spurned them all, for she had yet to find a man that could truly keep up with her._

_It was fate, then, that one day, shortly after her nineteenth birthday, the princess embarked on defending a small village from a group of vicious revenants - a common pastime for a self-made hero such as herself. But on this day, another was already guarding the village - a bishop of Latona around the princess's own age, a holy man known this day as Brother Demont. A wandering hero, known for kindness and generosity as well as deadly magic of his own, this man had embarked on a similar quest to Princess Madelaine, and taken a vow to protect the people of Rausten who could not protect themselves. He was near a match for her in wit, charm, and, in the Princess's own words, "stunning good looks," and his undeniable affinity for slaying monsters and healing the injured alike made him a cunning adversary to evil and a wandering folk hero to the populace of southern Rausten._

_Initially, the two young heroes clashed - each vowing to protect the other from the dastardly creatures - but they quickly came to realize that they worked impressively well as a team. When the princess returned to the capital after completing her current tour of heroism, she was this time not alone - and six months to the day from their meeting, Princess Madelaine married Brother Demont in a ceremony that was still recalled clearly by the palace courtiers as being "the grandest affair in living history" or, to some, "the most elaborate affair in living history." For the next decades, the princess and prince continued their travels, adventuring far and wide and serving as heroes to their people._

_It was not that their lives were without hardship - the princess's father, the Divine Emperor, was in ill health, and gradually fading. His wife Queen Rachel had passed some time after her daughter's wedding. Princess Madelaine gradually turned her attention more and more to ruling the kingdom in her ailing father's stead, and was unable to spend as much time personally aiding the people. When the princess had seen thirty-seven years, the couple was blessed with their first child - one said to possess all the strength and beauty alike of her parents - their daughter, the new Crown Princess of Rausten. She was named for her late grandmother, though the new parents wanted their child's name to be as special and unique as the child herself was, and so the baby girl was christened L'Arachel._

_Alas, all beautiful things cannot come without suffering. With her father now entirely bedridden, Princess Madelaine wished to venture forth and help her people personally one more time, before she became entirely committed to solving matters of state. She and Prince Demont left the infant L'Arachel in the care of Madelaine's younger brother, Prince Mansel, and bade that they would return within the fortnight. One week after their departure, a small village on the border was overwhelmed by a group of particularly ruthless and cunning gargoyles. It was said the villagers all miraculously were able to survive the ordeal - but when royal guards found the wreckage, in it were the still bodies of the Princess and Prince, who had beaten the foul fiends only at the expense of their own lives._

_Consumed by grief over his beloved daughter's death, the Divine Emperor succumbed to his illness soon after. The princess's younger brother Mansel instead assumed the throne he had always believed would be his sister's. He vowed to care for his sister's two most beloved things: her dear Rausten, and her precious, only daughter._

_Who would that daughter, Princess L'Arachel, grow to be? With such renowned holy blood in her veins, it was a foregone conclusion that she would be something great. That much was certain. But could she be as kindhearted, as courageous, as selfless, as determined as her noble parents…?_

Divine Emperor Mansel blinks a bit, and shakes himself slightly, as if coming out of a fog. The room he sits in has grown dark, a full moon glowing through the thin lace drapes, and the candle on the bedside table has burned to nearly nothing at all. Mansel looks down at the bed he is perched upon the edge of and chuckles at the sight of his niece, sound asleep, having dozed off well before the completion of his tale. "Very well, I suppose I did ramble a bit, didn't I, Dozla...ah?" He turns at the sound of a loud snore behind him, only to see the other man having fallen asleep as well, still standing up.

"Perhaps more than a bit, then," Mansel amends. He tightens the covers around the sleeping toddler, leans forward to kiss her forehead. "There will be time to tell this story again later, and goodness knows you've heard it before. Sleep well tonight, then, and may the Sacred Stones bless you...my L'Arachel."

\---

L'Arachel has heard the story so many times, from so many different people, she now knows it by heart. There are variations, of course - every story changes with time, little details slipping slightly from what they once were - but in essence, it is always the same. Her parents were great, heroic people, and they died as they lived, and she is, has always been, proud to uphold their great legacy.

Their portrait hangs in a place of honor in the front hall of Castle Rausten. It was commissioned a year before L'Arachel's own birth. According to Uncle, Princess Madelaine had held no interest in being posed and painted as anything but a hero. It depicts her mother in the palace gardens, clad in resplendent white and gold armor, helmet in one arm, the other hand resting on the hilt of her rapier, the tip dug into the earth beneath her. Prince Demont stands at Princess Madelaine's side, one hand on on her elbow and the other brandishing an elaborate staff. Her mother's green hair is tightly braided around her head; her father's golden curls are sun-kissed beneath his circlet. The shine of their armor, the silk of their robes, the glint of light in her mother's blade, the shining ruby ring on her father's finger - L'Arachel can picture them all whenever she closes her eyes. No detail has been missed in this painting, and none have been missed by L'Arachel's eyes, hungrily roving the portrait for hours at a time, searching for details she might have somehow missed. She had to search for them, as the painting, for all its beauty, is unfinished. This painter always saved faces for last, citing them as the most important detail of all and therefore the final one to be added. And yet, this painting's subjects had perished before the final sittings had been completing, leaving two blurry spaces of empty white canvas behind.

No other portraits of them have ever been completed (it was rumored the princess hated sitting still for them, and her father had come from a monastery where such things weren't done), and L'Arachel has no memories of her own to draw upon, and the result of this is that L'Arachel has never seen her parents' faces. She is told she resembles her mother, and supposes this must be fact, as she resembles Uncle quite a bit - yet, being told is not the same as knowing for herself. Still, even faceless, her parents emanate heroism, chivalry, and nobility - it radiates forth from the painting, a warming balm like that of a fireplace (though she would be lying if it did not, some days, feel a bit suffocating, much as a fire does if left to burn in a still room for too long.)

Gazing up at her parents' painting is the only time Princess L'Arachel has ever felt _small_.

\---

Princess L'Arachel, aged seven-and-three-quarters, huddles beneath her tea table. She can hear her quarry's loud, strangled breathing. It is injured, and an injured animal is the most dangerous, after all. Hence why she is hiding, keeping her own breaths quiet and even.

The hiding part is terribly dull, though, and so she stands up suddenly, sending the tea table sprawling sideways (and the basket of flowers atop it...she'll have to pick those up later, or her governess will fuss.) Still, the princess will not be deterred, and so L'Arachel leaps atop the sofa, holding her staff (broomstick) aloft.

"Do not despair, citizens of Rausten!" L'Arachel checks her pose briefly in the wall mirror (it is heroic as ever) before turning to address her adoring public. "It is I, the Princess L'Arachel! The monster will do no harm to you as long as I am here!"

Her adoring public's stuffed faces gaze at her, adoringly. One doll flops over sideways.

"Ah, Lady Florentine! Do not be overcome by my beauty!" L'Arachel hastily realigns the poor doll, only for her to slump again. "Swooning into my arms already? My dear, you must delay such things until the battle is won! For I must now away to face my foe!"

L'Arachel dismounts the sofa and shoos her public to safety beneath it before turning to face her foe. It looms from the far side of her bed, huge, hulking, covered in black fur...and deadly. It sees her looking its way and growls.

"Back, fiend!" L'Arachel crows, brandishing her staff once more. "I will not allow you to terrorize the good people of Rausten another day! Now, face justice!"

L'Arachel climbs atop her bed, then leaps to land on the beast's shoulders. It roars furiously, but she does not relent, aiming her staff. "Take that! Light magic!"

The beast moans piteously, slumping forward. L'Arachel dismounts, rolling to the side and springing to her feet. "Had enough, yet? Watch out," she directs to her safely-hidden villagers, "this is the part where it unleashes its terrifying ultimate attack!"

The beast raises up on its hind legs, roars terribly, and...sneezes.

"Dozla," says L'Arachel. "That wasn't the terrifying ultimate attack."

The beast mumbles something, then tugs the black fur blanket off its head, revealing static-wild green hair and a sheepish grin. "My apologies, Princess L'Arachel. This old shawl's a bit dusty, y'see..."

"Well, it cannot be helped, I suppose," L'Arachel sighs. "You performed admirably up til that point, though."

"Why, thanks, Princess!" Dozla beams. "I thought my roar's been getting better lately - trying to be a bit more 'monster' and less 'bear,' y'know?"

"Yes, it has been improving significantly." L'Arachel looks around at the flowers and dolls scattered across the floor, the mussed bed, and the slipper-marks on the sofa. "I suppose we should reset the stage..."

"Gwa ha ha!" says Dozla suddenly, and L'Arachel turns to face him again, surprised - after a lifetime with this man, she speaks Dozla quite well, and this particular "Gwa ha ha!" is not one of merriment, but of concern.

"What is it, Dozla?"

"It's near six already! And your uncle specifically wanted to see you for the - ah, for dinner tonight!" Dozla hurries over to the wardrobe. "We'd best get you into something a bit less...er, heroic, since you've got an audience with the Emperor!"

L'Arachel looks down at her dress, rumpled and covered with dust and flower petals. "Yes, I suppose that would be wise. A champion of all that is good musn't appear shabby before her emperor, after all. It would hardly be becoming!"

"Right you are, Princess! That kind of wisdom is what will lead to you making an excellent empress one day!" Dozla ruffles L'Arachel's already-tousled curls. "Now then, blue dress or pink?"

\---

L'Arachel leads the way to the dining hall, Dozla a few paces behind. Her uncle is usually quite busy, but he does try to make time for a few dinners a week, just the three of them (after all, Dozla is practically family - the closest thing either she or Uncle have left, anyway.)

"Do you think Uncle will want to see my latest grand entrance, Dozla?" L'Arachel asks over her shoulder as they grow near to their destination. "I have been rehearsing it, after all. It's coming along quite well, if I do say so myself!"

"I'm sure he'd be delighted, Princess!" Dozla booms out, causing a nearby maid to startle and nearly drop her tea tray. The concept of "inside voice" is not one Dozla has ever been familiar with, to L'Arachel's knowledge. "Your grand entrances are always such a sight to behold! Give it your best go!"

"Very well, then." L'Arachel draws to a stop in front of the ornate dining hall doors, takes a deep breath, and throws her shoulders back. "Here I go!"

Dozla stands back with an encouraging nod. L'Arachel takes another breath and then flings the doors open. "It is, I, the Princess L'Arachel! I have arrived!"

Divine Emperor Mansel is seated at the far end of the grand dining hall table, and upon L'Arachel's stunning entrance, rises to his feet. It is then that L'Arachel notices the glittering streamers and flower bouquets lining the walls, and the elaborate feast laid out on the tabletop. She puts two and two together just as Uncle and all the room's servants call out "Happy Birthday, Princess L'Arachel!"

"My..." L'Arachel begins, a bit taken aback (as heroes of justice can be at such times.) "But, Uncle, my birthday is still four days from now!"

"I know that, of course, my dear," her uncle answers, now coming around the table to greet her. "But you have successfully predicted my last three surprise birthday feasts, simply by way of the date! I knew in order to pull one over on you this time, I would have to be cunning - and then it came to me! I could simply prepare the celebrations four days early!"

"That _is_ a cunning plot, Uncle!" L'Arachel gasps. "To fool one such as myself - you must be quite the mastermind. I knew not that you had it in you! Dozla," and she turns accusingly to her bodyguard, just behind her, "did you know of this as well?"

"I did, Princess." Dozla looks somewhat rueful beneath the tangle of his beard. "My heartfelt apologies for keeping secrets from you, but your holy uncle wished this to remain a true surprise!"

"Oh, no need for such apologies, Dozla. Truly." L'Arachel faces her uncle once more. "I must thank you for such a lavish affair, Uncle."

"No thanks needed, my girl." Mansel leans down and hugs her. "The joy on your face is thanks enough for me."

"I must offer my congratulations as well, Princess,” comes an unfamiliar voice.

L'Arachel disentangles herself from her uncle and looks up at the man standing behind him. He has straight red hair, and is tall and gangly, his back slightly curved. He is a priest, L'Arachel supposes, based on his robes.

The man bows low, and L'Arachel curtsies in return. "My thanks, Brother...I apologize, I cannot recall your name."

"You needn't apologize, Princess." The man stands up straight again. "I am Brother Riev. Your esteemed uncle granted me the honor of attending this celebration, as a representative of the church. I am...truly blessed to be in your presence." He smiles, but it is - _off_ , somehow, like the time she put her finest bonnet on Dozla. The smile looks as out of place on him as the lace did on her hulking, armor-clad bodyguard.

L'Arachel can't place why, but she shrinks a bit closer to Dozla.

"You have great magical potential, Princess...Impressive. I can see you being a great asset to our noble country...when you are grown, of course." Riev nods.

"Thank you, Brother. You flatter me." L'Arachel nods with a (slightly shaky) smile, then turns back to her uncle. Brother Riev's eyes follow her, than flit to Mansel. What an odd man.

(Had she known, then...but she was young, and naive, and thought all monsters had great horns and claws.)

"Now, then..." Mansel looks around the room, then goes to a pile of gifts stacked in the corner and lifts the top one carefully before returning to where L'Arachel stands. "Though you may open the rest of your gifts after we have dined, I would like you to unwrap this one first. It is, perhaps...the most special."

L'Arachel takes the parcel delicately. It's long and narrow, and she makes quick work of disposing of the thin paper it is wrapped in. Dozla gives a small, appreciate whistle as the paper falls away.

"It's...a staff," L'Arachel breathes in wonderment, turning the present in her small hands. A custom-made staff, too, with elaborate wooden carving up the sides and a simple orange jewel set at the tip. "Does...does this mean...?"

"It does," says Mansel. "Your training begins tomorrow morning. Lady Saaga is expecting you at ten precisely, and will enchant the staff with basic healing spells for you. She would have attended the party, but...you know how she is with crowds and guests. She prefers to be secretive."

"So...I may begin learning the true heroic art of healing?" L'Arachel is still incredulous, clasping the staff tightly. "Oh, Uncle!"

"I did say when you turned eight, didn't I?" Mansel's eyes twinkle. "I am hardly one to go back on my word."

"But, it will be three days early!" cries L'Arachel. "You are too generous, Uncle - thank you!" She flings her arms around her uncle's waist, and he hugs her back. "I promise, I will be a true hero, and a true queen, mending the wounds of evil the darkness has left upon this holy land!"

"All I can ask is that you guard our Rausten, as our family has done for generations," says Mansel. "And guard yourself, as well - heroism can be plenty dangerous. Hence why I think it best you begin with healing before moving on to more, ah,  _deadly_ methods of heroism."

"Thank you, truly, Uncle." L'Arachel steps back, staring at the beautiful staff once more. "I will treasure it always."

Dozla gives a loud sniff from behind them. "Ah, our princess is growing up so well..."

"True that, Dozla. Eight years already..." Mansel shakes his head. "Your parents would be proud of how you have learned and grown, L'Arachel."

"Of course they would, who wouldn't, after all? Why, I feel it was only yesterday I could hold her in just one hand..."

L'Arachel isn't listening to the rest of what her uncle and guardian say, just looking at the staff. The end of playing pretend with dolls and Dozla...soon, true heroism would be within her grasp.

_Now, finally..._

_Mother, Father, please watch me._

\---

Princess L'Arachel, aged ten, stands in the Sacred Temple of Rausten Hall, gazing reverently up at the doors leading to the temple's back chamber. "It truly is beautiful, Uncle! A fitting place for the gods to reside!"

Mansel chuckles. "The gods are everywhere, my dear, but yes - it is fitting, isn't it? This chamber was constructed nearly eight hundred years ago, by Saint Latona and their followers, and our ancestors have lovingly maintained it ever since."

L'Arachel reaches out a hand and runs it along the marble columns. It is free of dust. "It is amazing, Uncle. I have only glimpsed it from a distance up until now…"

"Well, now you're old enough to go further," says Mansel with a smile.

"Your Holiness," comes an oily voice, and L'Arachel starts. Bishop Riev is the speaker, and he bows as he approaches them. "Perhaps it is unwise to venture within on your own? It may be best if myself, or some others among us, accompany you..."

"No, no, my friend," says Mansel. "You know as well as I - only the royal family, those descended from Saint Latona, can open the seal and enter the temple's inner depths. But I assure you, it is entirely safe - for that very reason. After all, no assassin would even be able to enter the place! Your concern is, however, appreciated."

Riev bows his head. "Of course, Your Holiness. My apologies, I forget myself. I simply was worried about Your Holiness and the princess entering a place alone, but you are entirely correct. You have nothing to fear." He turns away.

Mansel takes L'Arachel's hand, and the two climb the marble steps together. Mansel's personal guard watches, assembled below, Bishop Riev returning to his place among them.

Mansel opens the grand, carved marble doors, and the two step inside. The doors swing shut behind him with a cavernous sound that makes L'Arachel jump. The inside of the chamber is pitch-dark.

"That was the temple seal?" L'Arachel frowns in confusion. "But, Uncle, it is just a door."

"No, my child. The door is merely to keep out prying eyes - so that few can see the true temple seal." A soft ball of glowing light appears, cradled in Mansel's hand. "It is kept locked as well, to deter a few invaders, but the real seal is up ahead. Look, my dear."

In the soft yellow light of Mansel's magic, L'Arachel can make out an elegant marble hallway, with sweeping carved pillars leading up to a high ceiling. There are elaborate carvings lining the pillars and walls - but L'Arachel does not notice them, for her eyes are fixed upon the extraordinary thing lying ahead of them.

It looks like a shimmering white veil of some kind, sparkling and reflecting the yellow light. A cross between fabric and swirling mist, it dances and twinkles like stars, forming a wall a few yards ahead of where L'Arachel and Mansel are standing. L'Arachel reaches for it, then looks at her uncle questioningly. He gives an encouraging nod, and L'Arachel rests her hand upon the mist. Despite how it looks, it feels flat, and perfectly smooth, neither warm nor cool.

"This is Latona's seal," says Mansel. "A spell none have been able to replicate since it was first cast, so long ago. It is harmless, but impenetrable. It is not a wall, rather a cube. It forms a barrier, not only in this hallway, but around the whole temple - it goes through the walls, floors, and even the ceiling, you see. Even if one burned the entire palace and this temple to ash, the barrier and its contents would still stand."

"Nobody can get through it?" L'Arachel asks. "Even with magic?"

"It is not impossible," says Mansel. "Some have tried to breach the barrier in the past, and they all failed, but if one had the full power of darkness behind them - well, let us hope it does not come to that. The temple seal is not the only obstacle a thief would have to face - there are other guardians within its depths. However, as we have Latona's blood and light in our veins, you and I needn't fear. None of the guardians will emerge or attack should we enter."

"How do we get through, then?"

"Again, with the blood magic we have been left. I will teach you the spell later - you and I are the only living souls who can perform it. Saaga and a few others know the incantation as well, should they need to aid you, but they still can't open the seal. Hold this, would you?" Mansel passes L'Arachel the small orb he carries; it rests in her hand like a tiny sun. "Now, then…"

Mansel holds his staff in both hands in front of him, and lowers his head, concentrating. He, and the staff, begin to glow with a soft, pale, yellow-green light.

"O, Great Latona, grant me your blessing! I ask you for your aid, that I may fight the darkness and vanquish evil. I ask for the strength of Grado, the wisdom of Frelia, the courage of Sigmar, the fortitude of Audhulma, and the sure heart of Latona! For those that are afraid, I will stand tall. For those that suffer, I will grant aid. For those that weep, I will bring peace. For those that are weak, I will fight. May your divine light illuminate Magvel! In your sacred name, I open this holy seal!"

With the last words, there is a flash of light, and the seal glows with the same gentle green light encircling Mansel, who lifts his head, panting.

"Oh, well done, Uncle! That was very magnificent!" L'Arachel beams. "Um...what did you do, exactly?"

Mansel still looks quite tired, but he smiles, taking the orb of light from her. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

L'Arachel hesitates, but steps forward, and gingerly touches the barrier. This time, her hand passes right through it. She looks back at Mansel, who gives an encouraging nod, and then she steps through the barrier, as though it is nothing at all.

Mansel follows her, and with a wave of his staff, the light orb splits into six smaller orbs, which drift away into six elegant, empty torches lining the walls. The room is illuminated, and at the end of it, L'Arachel can see a large, elaborately carved golden cabinet.

"The sacred temple's reliquary," says Mansel. "Please open it, my dear."

L'Arachel walks forward and pulls the reliquary doors open. Within lies a small dias, upon which a tiny wooden box rests. Mounted on the cabinet walls above the dias is a light tome and a long, graceful staff.

"The Sacred Twins, Latona and Ivaldi," says Mansel. "As wielded by Saint Latona in their legendary battle with the Demon King, bestowed upon them by the gods. They rarely leave the temple; the last time was for my ascension ceremony, and the next will be for yours. They are incredibly powerful, and have not been used in many years. But it is not them that I have brought you here for. You are here to see a far more valuable treasure."

"The box, Uncle?"

"You're an intelligent young lady, L'Arachel. Recall your lessons, and your knowledge - you know what is inside the box."

"The Sacred Stone of Rausten," L'Arachel breathes. "May I...may I truly see it, Uncle?"

Mansel's smile makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Of course, my dear. That is what you are here for, is it not?"

L'Arachel leans hesitantly over the dias, and with one last nervous glance at her uncle, lifts the box's latch and opens it. Inside the box is a small velvet cushion, and atop it...

The Sacred Stone of Rausten is a bright yellow-green, much like L'Arachel's own hair (and Uncle's, before he started to grey.) It is lovely, and tiny, and glows softly.

"My goodness," L'Arachel breathes. "It is very beautiful…"

"It is," says Mansel. "And very powerful, too. You may touch it, if you wish."

L'Arachel rests a tentative finger atop the Sacred Stone. It feels warm, as if it had been clutched in a hand all this time instead of an empty box, and somehow...familiar, and comforting. But there is no rush of magical power or shocking revelation, and L'Arachel can't help but feel a tiny bit disappointed.

"It is just a stone," says Mansel. "And yet, it is not. It possesses truly incredible power - but that power is only defensive. It can protect, and nurture, and grow. It and its fellows once stopped the Demon King, and should the day come when that darkness rises once again...then, it will be needed. That is why it is so valuable. You must protect it, L'Arachel. That is a sacred duty of Rausten's royal family."

"And every country in Magvel has one?" asks L'Arachel.

"Yes - each of the five heroes had a Stone, and left theirs to their descendants. And each of those descendants is tasked with guarding their Stone, each of which has various protective measures surrounding it. As Saint Latona's descendants, it is our task to ensure Rausten's Stone is kept safe, so that if the day comes where it is needed...it can be used."

L'Arachel nods sagely. "I understand, Uncle. I will be certain to do so."

"That is good," says Mansel. L'Arachel carefully closes and latches the Sacred Stone's box.

Mansel ruffles her hair. "I am quite proud of you. This is an important step towards becoming Queen of Rausten - understanding the Sacred Stone, and our duty towards it. As long as we have the Stones, even only one of them...Magvel has hope. You must keep and nurture that hope. Now, then," and Mansel turns back the way they came, "we must return to our respective duties. Are you ready?"

"Always, Uncle!" L'Arachel cheers (but respectfully, as this is a sacred place.) "We move out!"

\---

Princess L'Arachel, aged twelve, is quite vexed.

"I do not understand. Uncle has said I am free to come and go in the palace as I please." She's a bit too old for it, it's true, but she feels a strong urge to stomp her foot. "Please, Dozla, explain."

"I...I can't, milady." Dozla does indeed look like he physically can't elaborate, sweat creeping down his neck as he stands spread-eagle in front of the stairs leading into the Rausten Great Chamber. "Your uncle, he, er...a meeting! Yes! A very important meeting, with ah, the court jester! Yes, indeed! Cannot be interrupted! We must go back the way we came, Princess! At once!"

"We do not have a court jester, Dozla. Are you lying to your princess?" L'Arachel glares up at Dozla, who shudders. "That is a truly unkind thing to do."

"Ooo...I know, Princess, I have no wish to lie to your esteemed self, but…"

"But what, Dozla?" L'Arachel plants her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes.

"It's just...y-your uncle...he had me swear not to tell you anything. Not about Brother Riev - " Dozla's eyes widen, and he claps a hand over his mouth, but the damage is done.

"What about Brother Riev? He is an esteemed priest of Rausten. Is he ill?" L'Arachel narrows her eyes further. She is actually beginning to have trouble seeing out of them at this point, but the effect is still good. Dozla lets out a small whimper.

"Let me through, Dozla." L'Arachel tries to shove past the man, but he is unmovable.. "I have no time for this, I promised I would show Uncle my report on my healing progress - "

A shout, and then a crash, echoes from behind the closed doors. Dozla turns towards them in surprise, and L'Arachel sees her chance, darting past him and up the stairs into the Great Chamber.

L'Arachel flings the doors open, and screams.

The room is full of light - piercing, harsh, burning. Her eyes ache from the very sight of it, and she has to turn her face away, peeking up through her lashes. Two robed men are firing steady beams of light magic at each other - the two columns of light meet in the middle, clashing with painfully brilliant sparks.

At the sound of her scream, the spell breaks, both men rounding on her. L'Arachel's eyes begin to adjust in the absence of the light - there is an overturned table between the two men, and various items she doesn't recognize and can't clearly see scattered across the floor. She raises her head to face the men. She realizes one is her uncle, and the other - a redheaded, hunchbacked, sallow-faced man -

The broad form of Dozla appears, putting himself between her and the men. "Princess! Get out of here! I'll protect the Emperor, you need to run!"

"But - Uncle - what - " L'Arachel is frozen. Part of her knows she should run, but her limbs simply refuse to budge.

"Ah, the royal brat and her hideous watchdog," Riev snarls. "No matter - I can take them. I can take you all!"

"That is enough," Mansel says - and though he does not raise his voice, it is laced with barely-contained fury (and for the first time in her life, L'Arachel is slightly frightened of her uncle.) "Brother Riev - the _former_ Brother Riev - I had hoped you would see reason, but I see no need to prolong this discussion further, if you feel the need to resort to violence. Guards, to me! Seize this man!"

Dozla grabs L'Arachel, pushing her to the ground as he holds her tightly, shielding her, but she can still see the events that follow in the small gap over his shoulder. The two doors at the back of the Rausten throne room fly open, and several holy Rausten Knights begin to pour into the room, descending upon Riev. He lets out a shriek of incoherent rage, light bursting from his hands again as he springs at Mansel. The latter doesn't flinch as a mage knight rushes between the two, blocking the spell handily and shooting a blast of fire back at Riev, who howls again in pain and anger. More knights tear Riev's tome away, grabbing his arms and forcing him to kneel on the ground.

"Curse you, Mansel!" Riev spits, looking up at the Emperor approaching him. "You coward! You filthy, craven coward!"

"Coward, am I? You are the one who chose to attack me, believing me unguarded and alone, when I confronted you over your foul misdeeds. You will not darken Rausten's doorstep again, not after this." L'Arachel has never seen her uncle like this before, his face dark with anger. "You serve a monster, and one who does such a thing, let alone one who is as cowardly and cruel as yourself, is not welcome in my country. Your futile struggles only make your punishment harsher."

Riev lurches forward, but the knights hold him back. He looks crazed. "This isn't...this isn't the end! A darkness approaches - you cannot stop it! Even your precious, holy miracles - your self-righteous, arrogant preaching - you stand no chance against my master! He will come - he will come!"

Mansel shakes his head. “I have no reason to listen to your hateful nonsense. Guards, take him away.”

The knights drag Riev from the room. L'Arachel can hear him ranting and raving all the way down the hall.

When Riev can no longer be heard, Mansel sighs, his shoulders slumping and the anger draining from his face. He then stands tall once more and rushes over to where L'Arachel is still huddled on the ground in Dozla's arms. "L'Arachel, are you unhurt?"

Dozla releases L'Arachel, leaning back from her. "I think she's okay, Your Holiness. Nothing came near us."

Mansel kneels before them. "That is a relief. But what are you even doing here?"

"I was going to - " L'Arachel sits up and swallows hard. "I wanted to show you my report." She holds up the paper, still clenched in her palm and now lightly crumpled. "Lady Saaga says I am making excellent progress in both healing and magical resistance…"

"I will look it over later, L'Arachel. Thank you. But I told Dozla to keep you away from here." Mansel shoots a glance at the Berserker, who looks sheepish.

"It was my fault, Uncle. Don't blame Dozla. I suppose I should have heeded him." L'Arachel looks down at the stone floor. "I just...I heard shouting, and…"

"Yes...I did not expect Riev to attack when confronted, but I did not completely discount the possibility. Hence why I had my finest guards at the ready, armed with Anima magic to best counter him." Mansel runs a hand over his face. "I suppose I should still have been more cautious, but...I had hoped this meeting would end better."

L'Arachel looks at the overturned table, at the scattered items across the floor. "What...what was the meeting about, Uncle? ...If I may be so bold as to ask?"

"I suppose…" Mansel seems deep in thought. "I suppose...yes, you should know." The remaining royal knights have begun gathering up the mess, but Mansel pays them no mind as he looks L'Arachel dead in the eye. "The former Bishop Riev was found to be working in the service of...the Demon King."

"What!?" L'Arachel bursts out. "Why would anyone do such a thing? Why would a _bishop_ do such a thing?"

"Precisely my question, dear. After all, in Rausten, though it may be a theocracy, one is free to worship whatever they please...but the Demon King is forbidden, and for good reason. Far worse, Riev was not merely fantasizing. At first, we - myself, and my spies - believed he was simply studying the Demon King out of fascination, or curiosity. But it quickly became apparent that he was not merely researching, but actively making offerings, and conducting services in the Demon King's name. Eventually he was determined to be performing rituals that may well have been attempts to channel the Demon King's power...or worse. Were that not enough, I have ample reason to suspect he was making aims to try and make his way into Rausten's Sacred Temple...most likely to try and obtain, or destroy, Rausten's Sacred Stone."

L'Arachel gapes. "He...he really was trying to do all of that? But he is a holy man!"

"Perhaps he was, once. Or perhaps we only thought he was. Perhaps this was his aim for the start, or perhaps he became corrupted over time. We do not know. He was not forthcoming with information. I confronted Riev here, with the evidence of his crimes, intending to excommunicate him and banish him from Rausten, but he snapped. I was able to prevent him from bringing any harm to me, but alone, I do not think I could have overpowered him. He is extremely strong, and my magical skills have never been the most impressive." Mansel shakes his head.

L'Arachel looks at all the things now being picked up and placed in a bag by the Royal Knights...scraps of paper, heavy books, oddly glowing rocks…"Are those the things he was using in his rituals?"

"Yes. Do not trouble yourself with them. They will be disposed of summarily, after he is brought to trial for his actions. Had he quietly accepted his punishment, this would all have been easier. But it matters not now."

L'Arachel tilts her head to look at one of the papers.

_Vocare Formortiis..._

\---

The sanctuary of the troubadours in Rausten is a sweeping, well-lit room with birch walls and a veritable garden of indoor plants, the ceiling lined with panels of glass to let in the day's sunlight. Healing magic is, they say, closely tied to nature, and therefore at its strongest in the light and the warmth. Henceforth, it is only natural that such a place would be excellent for those intending to train as troubadours to learn their craft. L'Arachel sits, staring out one of the windows, leaning on the wooden table, chin in her hands. She has always found the sanctuary to be like a soothing balm, but today, its beauty does not touch her.

"Princess L'Arachel. Did you not hear my question?"

L'Arachel starts upright. "I apologize, Lady Saaga! I was...lost in thought. What is it?"

Lady Saaga, the court troubadour of Rausten, shakes her head. She is a tall, slender woman, her pure white hair pulled back in a tight knot. She is quite old, but her sharp eyes and deft hands belie her age. "I simply asked if you were doing well, after the incident with Brother Riev earlier this week. Was your hearing damaged in the attack?"

L'Arachel draws a circle on the table with her finger. "No, no...I...I am well, physically. But I feel rather confused, Saaga. Could you enlighten me?"

"Ask what you will, child. If I can, I shall answer."

"Riev was worshipping...the Demon King. But why would he do such a thing? Why would anyone swear their soul to a being of such evil? I simply cannot comprehend it."

"Hm...it's a difficult thing for someone such as yourself to understand, Princess L'Arachel. But I will try to explain the truth, or at least, explain what I believe to be the truth." Saaga folds her arms behind her. "The Demon King is said to grant great power. Incredible power. The power to smite one's foes handily...This power is what has driven people throughout history to turn to the Demon King. I believe this power was what Riev sought, as well."

"What power is this, Saaga? What power can possibly be so incredible?"

Saaga taps a finger against her chin. "You are young, and your uncle mightn't approve, but...you will rule Rausten one day. I suppose it's best you learn now...the Demon King has the power to bring back the dead."

L'Arachel's elbow slips off her desk. "B-bring back the dead? But such a thing - "

"Precisely. It is unholy. The dead cannot truly return to life. But the Demon King offers this power. The Demon King feasts upon the souls of living men. The bodies he brings back to serve his will...they are empty. Devoid of true life. They walk about, even talk, and fight, but they cannot feel. They can only struggle to continue a miserable, empty existence."

"Why would anyone want such a power? If one's loved ones are not the same people they were - why even bring them back, then? It would only bring more suffering, would it not?"

Saaga's tone grows sharper, harsher. "Think of what one can do with such power, child. Not seek comfort in the arms of lost loved ones, nor try to grant those who passed too soon a second chance at life. No, the true power of the Demon King is only suitable to create...an army."

"An army...the Demon King was said to have an army of monsters, wasn't he?"

"Yes, that is correct. I see you have in fact attended to your studies. Should one successfully raise the Demon King, one would have command of a monstrous army, and even the ability to bring back great warriors from the dead to fight in one's place. All this is gained in addition to the strength of the Demon King himself, which is formidable...but the price is great. One who serves the Demon King can surrender his very soul to the darkness. There are two sorts who become the Demon King's servants. There are those can embrace that darkness, and control it, as its companion - such as Riev, who did not give up himself, only act as a servant to the Demon King. Others...they give themselves up completely, willingly surrender their body and soul, and they and are...consumed by it. They say the only one able to ever fight off the Demon King's thrall was Saint Latona."

"I have heard that story." L'Arachel folds her hands in her lap. "But I still do not understand why anyone would do such a thing. To ravage the entire world, just for power? To destroy all that is good? What is even the purpose of doing such a thing?"

Saaga smiles and shakes her head. "It simply isn't in your nature to understand, Princess. You are one with the light - you are a being of kindness, and joy. The sort of people who willingly serve the Demon King, who can see his darkness without surrendering themselves and being wholly overcome...they crave only power, and strength."

"What of those who are less willing, Saaga? You mentioned there are two types…"

"Saint Latona was among them - those who were tempted by the Demon King. Desire to restore a loved one, desire to be stronger, desire to help somebody - innocent wishes, but their bearers turned to the wrong source. The Demon King does not possess the bodies outright, not at first. Instead he will eat these kind, innocent souls, and warp them, and twist them into something dark and awful. He finds the darkness in their souls - we all have it, even you, Princess - and inflates that darkness, strengthens it. The darkness grows, until it consumes the light entirely, and all that is left is selfishness, hatred, resentment, and fear. The victim may retain some degree of control, but they will no longer be themselves. The good parts of their soul are extinguished, and their inherent darkness breeds and grows. It is a dreadful fate, worse than death - to turn and hurt one's own beloved people. To wreak evil that one may have dreamed of, but never intended to truly act upon...that is what possession from the Demon King does to a person."

"So they lose control of themselves? That _is_ awful."

"Not completely, Princess. The victim is not wholly gone, but with that festering voice whispering poison to them, they are twisted and changed. It is not their choice, but it is not entirely out of their control. They are being manipulated so forcefully they can no longer resist. Only Saint Latona was able to break free of this control and turn upon the Demon King, with the aid of their dearest allies - of course, Sir Grado, Dame Frelia, Lord Seigmar, and Lady Audhulma. But Latona had only just been touched by the Demon King, and their body was still theirs to control. If the process of the Demon King taking control is completed, then the victim cannot be saved. Their goodness will have been eaten away. All that can be done is to put what remains out of its misery, so that it cannot continue its quest of pain and suffering."

"Will...will Riev awaken the Demon King?" L'Arachel's hands are shaking. "If such a dreadful thing comes to pass…"

"Do not trouble yourself, child. Many have attempted to break the seal upon the Demon King in the past centuries. All have failed. Sir Grado entrusted his Sacred Stone, in which the Demon King is sealed, to his descendants long ago, and the nation of Grado possesses such a strong military might that none would dare challenge it. There is no cause for alarm or concern." Saaga's hand rests on L'Arachel's shoulder. "I do not tell you this to frighten or trouble you, Princess. Only to arm you with knowledge, so that you can be prepared for anything that might come, and so that you will be ready to rule as Empress of Rausten one day."

"I understand, Lady Saaga." L'Arachel says.

"Please continue to study your history, and your books of scripture. They will serve you well one day. Rausten is a nation of light, and our duty is to guard Magvel. It is important that you understand this duty, so that you might protect Magvel from dangers to come." Saaga claps her hands together, her face going from serene and grave to mischievous. "Now, then, we've dallied enough. Come with me to the medical wing - we must continue practicing your skills with a staff. I expect much from you, after all - if you had time to daydream, then you must be well prepared, hm?"

"Of course!" L'Arachel leaps to her feet. "A princess is always prepared, after all! Onwards, then!"

(She continues to think back on this conversation, for many years to come. She never did expect it to become so important, but perhaps there was a part of her that always knew her role.)

(Within the week, news spreads that the former Bishop Riev has escaped the palace dungeons, and the castle guard is on high alert. But he is not sighted in Rausten in the years to come, and eventually, time marches on.)

\---

Princess L'Arachel, aged not-quite-sixteen, sits in the grass of Rausten Hall's front courtyard, gazing at the sky. It's a lazy summer day, sticky with heat, the sort that hangs heavy and seems to weigh down the very air itself. As a result of this, the princess wears only her favorite white sundress, shoes and gloves long abandoned in the grass alongside her staff, and her hair twisted high on her head in an effort to cool her neck.

"I declare, Dozla, have you ever seen a day so hot as this in Rausten?" she calls over her shoulder, to where the ever-present Dozla lies on a bench, fanning himself.

"Not that I can recall, milady!" Dozla has even abandoned his breastplate, a sight L'Arachel hasn't seen since the last formal ball her uncle had thrown. "It's bloody miserable, isn't it? Makes one crave shaved ice…"

"Well, they threw us out of the kitchens for having too much of it…" L'Arachel sighs, digging her toes into the grass. It's normally unheard of for a lady such as herself to go barefoot, particularly outdoors, but it is _bloody_ hot, as Dozla would phrase it. Miserable heat!

"Ga ha ha! I had thought we'd been expelled for Milady standing on the table, but you make a good point there, as always! Perhaps we did have a bit too much." Dozla strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Well, maybe they'll have forgotten if we head in and try our luck again..."

"Hm…" L'Arachel has stopped listening, twirling the grass between her sticky fingers, her mind lost to the humidity.

The sleepy quiet is broken by a shout. Dozla switches from housecat to lion in an instant, springing from his bench and shoving between L'Arachel and the sound's source. It takes a moment longer for L'Arachel to process what she's heard, but then she too jumps to her feet and looks towards the source of the noise - a group of men wearing the uniform of the Rausten army, throwing open the courtyard gates.

"Help, someone, anyone!" the man shouts.

L'Arachel realizes only three of the men are on their feet - the fourth hangs limply between the shoulders of his compatriots. And another moment later she sees the blood - masses of it, brilliant and crimson, pouring from his abdomen, a hasty makeshift bandage doing little to stem the vivid tide. It leaves a trail behind the men, a morbid pathway showing their progress towards the palace, and there is so very much of it - more than she's ever seen.

"Jack is - he's awful injured!" one of the men cries, the one leading the way, a bit ahead of the ones supporting his comrade. "A healer, please! Somebody, fetch one!"

"I-I am a healer!" L'Arachel says, her senses returning to her. "Please - lay him down, and I will do what I can - Dozla, hurry and fetch Lady Saaga! At once!"

Dozla, having assessed the lack of threat to L'Arachel, nods before sprinting back towards the main castle, the fastest she's ever seen his short legs move. L'Arachel herself scoops up her forgotten staff and rushes over as the men hurriedly lower the patient to the ground. L'Arachel kneels beside him.

It is bad. It is awful - L'Arachel has done her rounds in the castle's hospital wing, but she has never seen wounds such as these. She begins to tug away the useless bandage. The soldier's breastplate has been torn away, his tunic cut to ribbons, and she can barely find the actual injuries themselves beneath all the blood, but there are likely multiple lesions, and deep ones at that. The man's face is paler than silk, than bone china, than a ghost. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. His face is slack and empty, but as she lays her hands on him, his eyes flutter open, and he gives a low, piteous moan.

"Do not worry yourself," says L'Arachel, both to herself and her patient. "I am here, and I will do what I can. What on earth happened here?" she calls over her shoulder to the standing men as she readies her staff. Her heart is pounding like a rabbit's, but she ignores it, focusing on her staff, on her knowledge, on her own power.

"We were hunting, and…" gasps the smallest of the three unhurt men, the one who had been leading the charge and shouting. "There was a wolf, massive one, might've been from Darkling...D-don't know how we got away. Jack was - trying to protect me," His youthful face is stark white, freckles standing out against his skin. "Please, can you…"

L'Arachel has stopped listening, closing her eyes, focusing on her magic as her staff begins to glow, opening her heart and her body to the warmth of healing magic. A familiar ritual, one she has done a thousand times, as essence of pure light fills her staff and hands and seeps into the man's body. When it is done, she opens her eyes once more, fully expecting the bleeding to be done. She is not prepared for what she sees instead.

"What...what on earth…" L'Arachel draws back in shock. Jack's bleeding has not so much as slowed, the wounds have not closed, and he is looking paler still. His eyes are like glass. She shakes her head, prepares the ritual again. A small mishap, perhaps. It will be fine.

Jack coughs, chokes, sputtering on the very air itself. It takes her a second to realize he is trying to speak. "Am...I am..am I..."

"You have nothing to fear," she tells him, even as her heart threatens to rip her chest in two. Her hands are shaking on the staff. She tries to steady them.

"Don't...don't wanna…" He heaves again. "I'm scared. I don't...want...to die..."

"Now, don't say that! I am the Princess L'Arachel, don't you know? The gloriously beautiful hero of justice herself! As long as I am here, no further harm can possibly befall you." The words fall from her mouth automatically, but as they do, her hands grow steadier, her tone surer. "I am descended from and blessed by Saint Latona themself, after all! The gods themselves stand no chance against me! Now, do hold still, that the gift of my magic might bless you!"

He makes another gurgling sound, his chest heaving, almost like he is...laughing…? L'Arachel can't quite believe it. It doesn't matter. She has to focus.

Again, the magic flows into his body, but again, nothing changes. She tries again. And again. Again, again, again, again, again…

"L'Arachel."

There is a hand on her shoulder. L'Arachel startles and looks up to see her uncle standing over her, his face lined with sorrow. She realizes that her hands are gripping the staff so hard her nails have clawed into her own palms. Her knees ache from kneeling on the grass. She is soaked in her own sweat, panting like she ran for miles.

She looks back at where Jack lies on the ground. He is pale, and he is still, and his eyes are staring at the sky above them, empty, a yawning void. _Lifeless._

There is no final breath, no last, rattling death gasp. No words of farewell or forgiveness. Nothing. He was there, and then he was simply gone.

She does not weep. She does not scream, or yell, or fight.

Her white dress is covered in blood.

It is terribly, terribly hot.

(That is the first time she loses a patient, and it is far from the last.)

\---

They hold a small memorial for Jack, a proper sendoff for a soldier of Rausten. It is raining and humid, and L'Arachel and Mansel both attend. Dozla stands quietly at L'Arachel's side as the procession leaves the capital, bringing the soldier home to his family, to lay him to rest for good.

"May Latona bless his soul," L'Arachel whispers quietly, and her uncle nods in agreement, squeezing her hand.

A voice comes from behind her. "Princess? Princess L'Arachel?"

L'Arachel turns, and looks into a small, freckled, tearstained face. "You are…"

"I'm...Leonard, Your Holiness. I, er...was one of the men who brought him in." The man is twisting the hem of his formal tunic in his hands so tightly the fabric seems likely to tear. "Jack, that is. I want to...to thank you."

"To thank me?" L'Arachel blinks. "But I did not...I was unable to help him."

"No, but...I reckon he was too far gone to help, anyway." Leonard turns to watch the procession, vanishing into the distance beneath the endless gray sky. "I mean...you did help, though. At least, in his final hours...he knew somebody cared about him. And that matters, I think."

"Does it? To you, I mean?" She is truly curious.

"Yeah. To me, anyway. I didn't...I didn't even realize you were the princess, at first, until you...said so. And you could have called for someone else to take care of him, like your big old bodyguard there. But you didn't, and you helped him. And not just that...you made him happy, in his last moments. You said silly things, and you made him laugh. And I saw, you got blood all over your dress, and it's probably ruined, and I'm awful sorry about that, and…" He clears his throat. "I just wanted to say that...Thank you. For helping, even if it didn't work. For making him laugh. And I'm real sorry about your dress."

"My…" L'Arachel doesn't recall ever having been at a loss for words in her rather short, yet illustrious life. She clears her throat. "You needn't fuss over my dress. That is...it is unnecessary. I am glad I could provide some comfort to you, and to your friend. Please, take care of yourself."

Leonard nods and tilts his helmet to her. "Latona bless you, Princess L'Arachel." He turns and heads off along with the other dispersing mourners.

Mansel lays a hand on L'Arachel's shoulder (just as he did in the courtyard on that hot day, not so long ago, and yet a lifetime ago.) "You have done well, child."

"What did I do, Uncle?" L'Arachel watches Leonard's retreating back. "I certainly wasn't a hero. Heroes don't fail like that. _Queens_ don't fail like that. What did I even accomplish?"

"You did what the royal family of Rausten is duty-bound to do." Mansel is smiling softly, staring off into the gray sky. "You gave aid when needed, yes. You acted honorably, yes. Both vital signs of a true heir to Rausten. But there is a third duty, and one every bit as important as the other two. You brought that man happiness, and joy, and let him see hope in despair - even if just a small bit of it, it was something. He did not die alone, or frightened, and though he suffered, he was feeling some measure of peace. That was thanks to you."

"That man...Leonard said I was silly. But I was trying to be heroic."

Mansel winks at her. "Sometimes people struggle to see the difference between the two. But laughter has power all its own. Brightening that darkness, being yourself...in the coming years, you may well need to walk that line again. Worry not whether others think you silly or courageous, or both. Simply know that, no matter what they come to think of you, you are bringing them joy. You are bringing them hope. That is your role, L'Arachel. A role we of the Rausten royal family hold in our hearts. Please do not lose your light, no matter how dark it becomes. Do not lose your laughter, or your optimism, or your humor. They are your weapons, and if you wield them well, you can bring about a power even stronger than Ivaldi itself."

"I...think I understand, Uncle." L'Arachel bites her lip, concentrating. "You say, even if they think me silly, I am still helping people by being my usual noble self?"

"Correct, my dearest. There are times…" Mansel's eyes grow somber. "There are times when I feel the weight of the world is resting upon my shoulders. The monsters from Darkling Woods, an ever-present threat...the careful art of maintaining diplomatic ties with all of Magvel...and the loss of my own family...the burdens can be heavy, at times. But I try to remember, if I lose myself to the darkness...It is not only I who will suffer. What of the Holy Guards, who ask for my leadership? What of my people, who look to the Divine Emperor for guidance? What of my niece, who looks up to me, who will eventually be the one to sit upon my throne, and will rely on what I have taught her when that day comes? No, I must not despair. I will not despair. I will be joyous, and filled with laughter, and with light. I must find the joy in the darkness. The book of Saint Latona says thus…'If you have your own light, you will never be alone in the dark, and neither will those you love.' Latona was said to possess a light so grand they could shake off the will of the Demon King himself. Willpower, and hope, and compassion for one's fellow man...those all make up light. Those are the traits I aspire to uphold. The ones my sister did, my father did, and you do too, L'Arachel."

"That is...very kind of you, Uncle, and very wise. Thank you." L'Arachel squares her shoulders, stands as straight and tall as she can manage. "I will take your words to heart."

"That is all I can ask of you, my dear." Mansel pats her shoulder. "Try not to burden yourself too heavily. You are young, and not yet grown into your heroic legacy, after all. Don't fret about what others think. Simply be yourself, your vivid, life-bringing self, and you will bring light to Magvel."

\---

Princess L'Arachel, aged seventeen and half, wipes sweat and monster goop from her eyes. "Well, I think that went rather well! Wouldn't you agree, Dozla?"

"Grruumph," says the goo pile beside her, whom she supposes is Dozla. The assumption is proven correct as the blob shakes off some of its coating, revealing a sweaty, cheerful face beneath. "I mean - Gar ha ha, Princess! Why, I haven't felt this alive in years!"

"Your encouragement is ever appreciated, Dozla. I must say, though, I wasn't expecting that gorgon to, er...explode in such a fashion, when you put your axe through its head. A bit less elegant than I would have liked - I'll need to have this outfit laundered." L'Arachel's horse, Theia, gives a begrudging whinny as she shakes monster remnants from her mane.

"Well, you know what they say, Princess! You can't protect Rausten without cracking a few monster skulls! Even if they are full of goop!" Dozla unburies his axe from what was once a gorgon. "I must say, your healing skills are truly an asset on the battlefield! I'd have been a goner near six times over without your support!"

"That is truly gratifying to hear, Dozla. I am pleased to have been of assistance. It wouldn't do for a princess of justice to slack on the job!" L'Arachel surveys the landscape, littered with monster corpses. "Well, I think we did quite well here! The guard captain will be - "

"Princess! Princess L'Arachel! Are you hurt?" The captain of the royal guard comes panting up beside her, smeared with monster blood.

"Why, not at all, Captain. Why would you say such a thing?" L'Arachel looks at Dozla, who shrugs. Well, she thinks he shrugs - he's still quite gooey.

"Princess L'Arachel, I say this with the utmost respect, but…" The guard captain pinches the bridge of his nose. "I did ask something of you, before we headed out today. Do you remember it?"

L'Arachel thinks. "You did say something to me, yes...something about riding ahead on the battlefield?"

The captain grimaces. "I said not to ride ahead on the battlefield, milady. While your services as a healer are undoubtedly useful, they serve less use if you have charged ahead alone! Running off half-cocked like that - it's terribly reckless! What if something had happened? We wouldn't have been able to help you! If we can't see you, we can't guard you!"

"Dozla guards me. He has done an excellent job, wouldn't you say?"

"But, Your Highness...please, try to understand. This has happened every time we've brought you along to a battle. You are the princess! It is our duty as royal guards to ensure no harm befalls you. We are on orders from your uncle to see you through battle safely. And we cannot do that if we do not know where you are!"

L'Arachel frowns. "I simply wished to be of use. I saw monsters slipping away from the fray, so I tracked them. And, as you can see, Dozla and I have made short work of them."

"But, Princess..."

"Sir Captain," says L'Arachel, "I am the princess of Rausten. As such, I have a sacred duty to uphold - where there are monsters to be slain, I must destroy them! Would you hold me back from that duty?"

"No, Princess, that is a very important and sacred duty, I just…" The Captain trails off. "I don't know why I bother."

"I don't understand why you do, either. Now, show me to your wounded, so that I may tend to them."

The captain sighs, and begins trudging back the way he came. L'Arachel urges her mount into a walk, and follows. Dozla clumps along beside them, peeling off strips of monster residue as he goes.

"I do not understand it, Dozla. Why do so many object to my holy calling?" L'Arachel frowns at the captain's back. "When I travel on these journeys to rid Rausten of evil, I am simply trying to slay as many demons as I can, in as short a time as I can. I do not mean to be reckless or wild. Yet they always say that I am. Why is that?"

"Well, Princess...it is a bit of a stumper," says Dozla. "But thinking about it, I think they're just worried about you, is all. A beautiful young hero such as yourself, why, how could people not worry? No need for fuss, though. We can keep carrying on our sacred mission, one way or another! Gwah ha ha!"

"I suppose you are right. I do feel rather chagrined, though," L'Arachel sighs. "I am still proud of our work, Dozla. But when one gets scolded rather than praised for it, well...it does take out a bit of the fun, I would say."

"Hm," Dozla muses. He is silent for a moment, then, "Ah ha! Princess L'Arachel, inspiration has struck!"

"It has? Oh, do tell! I am eager to hear it!"

"What about this...instead of charging ahead, you wait until the captain tells us we're allowed to charge ahead? It'll be a bit slower, but then maybe he won't get mad at you! And he'll be so proud of you for doing what he said to do, why, I daresay he might realize what an admirable ally of justice you are!" Dozla beams. "What do you think, Princess?"

"Hmm…" L'Arachel ponders. "It would be a bit slower, it's true. But it definitely has potential. Wait for orders to move forward, you say? Perhaps it's worth a try. I shall think on it. Thank you for your ever-thoughtful advice, Dozla."

Only three paces ahead of the duo, the captain of the guard rolls his eyes and groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize a 100k longfic might not be the smartest thing for dipping one's toes back into posting fanfiction, but I've never exactly been someone to do things halfway. At least I'm posting it all completed, right?  
> ETA: A couple little notes...Court Troubadour Saaga is mentioned in canon (one throwaway line of dialogue,) but is otherwise an OC. Also, in this fic, Latona uses they/them pronouns.


	2. Antebellum

Princess L'Arachel, a few months shy of her eighteenth birthday, is at an impromptu war council - the first Rausten has gathered in many years. She sits to her Uncle's right, and a captain of the Rausten Guard stands before them, having just completed his report. She is paying attention, very close attention, but her heart is thrumming in her chest.

"It seems our scouts' reports are correct," says Mansel finally, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. The last decade has aged him - the burdens of being emperor in an increasingly dangerous time, L'Arachel assumes. "Since the start of this year, Darkling Woods has been in a state of increasing unrest, and foul creatures are beginning to spread across the land. They have been overwhelming our army, to the point of breaking through Rausten and heading southwards across the land. Does that summarize events adequately?"

"Yes, sir," the captain replies, shifting through the stack of papers in his hands. "For the time being, Rausten is holding fast. We are prepared for these monsters, and even in greater numbers, we can safely fend them off for years if need be. We have also evacuated the villages closest to the Woods, and sent them to safer settlements. Rausten will not suffer much from this catastrophe, if we can help it."

"But, Captain - you said the monsters were beginning to overcome our forces...I am concerned about the fate of other nations, should this threat spread," L'Arachel blurts out. "Is it not Rausten's sacred duty to guard the rest of Magvel from the dangers of Darkling Woods?"

"You are correct, L'Arachel, and I agree with your concerns," says Mansel. "Captain, can we send out troops to try and quash any escaped monsters?"

"I agree, your Holiness. But we simply cannot spare our men - we are stretched quite thin as it is, trying to contain these beasts." The captain shakes his head. "The General sent me simply to convey this message to you - he does not think any further action can be taken on the part of your Holiness and the Royal Guard beyond what is already being done."

"I understand." Mansel gives a heavy sigh. "I simply do not understand what caused such a resurgence in their numbers. There are always monsters, but what could possibly have led to them multiplying so? However, I suppose...for the time, all we can do is stand by."

L'Arachel twists her hands tightly in her lap.

_What kind of queen stands by?_

\---

The Troubadours' sanctuary is beautiful as ever, the plants in bloom. Today, though, through the delicately-carved panes making up the roof, one can see that the sky is overcast - not raining, but dull and gray, heavy and passionless.

"You are subdued today, my princess. Is anything the matter?" Lady Saaga gazes down at her charge's handiwork. "While your spells are still immaculate, your mind is clearly elsewhere. Not an unusual happenstance, mind, but rarely do you daydream with such a somber face."

"Saaga, have you heard about the spread of the foul beasts from Darkling Woods?" L'Arachel lays her staff across her lap. "A troubling report was made this morning to Uncle and I. It seems they are posing a threat not only to Rausten, but to Magvel as a whole. It is unknown what the cause is, and we, despite being Magvel's holy nation, charged with fighting these threats - there is seemingly nothing that we can do but stand by. And that is hardly the noble thing to do, is it not?"

"Hmm..." Saaga seats herself in a high-backed chair at the front of the room. There are no others in the room; only she and L'Arachel remain. "Yes, I see. This does...align with some things."

"It does?"

"The Darkling Woods, and its monsters...they all stem from a singular source, as you know. The darkness that still lurks in Magvel, and perhaps always will...but was sealed away many centuries before you or I was born."

L'Arachel waits, patiently. She knows Saaga well, and knows being respectful will get her answers faster.

"But, Your Highness...lately, there have been omens. The Palace Sage and I have consulted on this, but we thought it best not to trouble your uncle until we had concrete proof. And even if His Holiness did know, well...what moves he can make are severely limited. After all, there are only so many royal knights."

"What have you seen, my lady?" L'Arachel asks, scooting closer in her seat.

"A great evil approaches Magvel once more. One you and I have spoken of before, not so very long ago. It has already begun to root its tendrils here, in this place...southward, in Grado. And as its evil spreads, its influence grows...its minions gain strength, and multiply, and grow ever more."

"A great evil…" L'Arachel recalls another conversation in this room, on a sunnier day. "You mean - "

"I do not know, my princess. It is too early to know, and my powers are not infinite. I am not a future-seer, nor is the Sage. Light magic such as Rausten's is not designed for such things, unlike the southern magics...we can only study patterns, and hope to guess at their meaning. But I fear...a darkness approaches, a terrible one, one that may well swallow this land if left unchecked."

"Then what...what are we to do about it?" L'Arachel's voice is shaking. "What is my uncle to do? What are the Holy Knights to do?"

"That isn't the question you really want to ask, now, is it?" Saaga's face is mischievous now, moreso than L'Arachel has ever seen it. "The question you truly want the answer to...go ahead and ask it, Princess. I won't tell a soul."

"Then..." L'Arachel swallows, clears her throat. "The real question I want to ask is...What can I do?"

"There it is, then." Saaga leans back in her seat, satisfied. "Well, Princess...I daresay, now that you've asked the question, you already know the answer. The world must have light. The innocent must be kept so. The defenseless must be shielded. How can you achieve this?"

"I..." The answer strikes L'Arachel in one bright, ecstatic burst, so much so that she leaps from her seat. "I will become the needed hero! I shall travel this land and shall rid Magvel of such unholy fiends myself! I will protect the weak, so that they need not fear the dark!"

"Very good!" Saaga claps her hands together. "You'll need strong allies, and a clear heart. Can you do it?"

"I can!" L'Arachel brandishes her staff, as she had as a child. "I will not let any deter me or stand in my way - I will banish the monsters, and bring light to Magvel! I will grow into my role as a true queen of Rausten!"

As L'Arachel gives a quick, hurried farewell and scrambles from the room, Saaga gazes skyward. A small smile crosses her face as she watches the sun begin to peek out from behind the clouds.

\---

"Uncle!" L'Arachel calls, bursting into Mansel's chambers. "Uncle, I've had the most terrific idea!"

Mansel looks up from his desk in alarm. "What is it, my dear?"

"Uncle - oh, there you are, Dozla." L'Arachel turns as the latter comes panting into the room behind her. "I wondered where you'd gotten off to!"

"Well, you went bursting out of Saaga's room like someone had lit your skirts alight, Princess! I could barely keep ahold of you, and it's awful tough to bodyguard when there's no body to guard, gwa ha ha!" Dozla rests his hands on his knees, breathing deeply. "Goodness, but you've gotten fast."

Mansel looks rather nonplussed. "Well, then. What is all of this?"

L'Arachel straightens her back, tosses her hair, and looks him in the eye - confidence, after all, is half the battle when one wants something. "I was speaking with Lady Saaga, and have had the most splendid idea to help the people of Magvel, Uncle."

"Do go on, then, my dear," says Mansel.

"I will be embarking on my very first hero's journey!" L'Arachel declares, pointing a finger at nothing in particular (but it makes quite a nice effect, she thinks.) "I will be traveling southwards through Magvel, in the direction of Grado, from where this terrible darkness originates - and as I go, I shall be banishing the foul creatures that are terrorizing the people of this land! Just as Mother and Father did, I will be, with my own hands, creating a better Magvel, a safer one, and the people will call out my name in reverence! In doing so, I will become an even better princess, and one day, a better empress!"

"I..." Mansel looks truly at a loss for words. "You...intend to go on a hero's journey?"

"Yes, Uncle! As I said, the people of Magvel are being plagued by a terrible darkness! So, I shall journey forth and quash this darkness myself, and in doing so, learn more about both this great land and the wicked creatures that inhabit it. None need fear the darkness - not when Princess L'Arachel is about!"

"My." Mansel sits back in his chair. "I...I simply do not know what to say to this, L'Arachel. It is so sudden…"

"It is not, Uncle. Long have I craved travel, to see the land as Mother and Father did. To vanquish evil by my own hands - that is my divine calling, is it not?"

"I suppose it is, but…" Mansel sighs heavily. "L'Arachel, please, let me be frank. I am concerned. Any manner of dangers could befall you - the monsters are deadly. You know that as well as I."

"You need not worry, Uncle! I will have Dozla with me, after all! What can't he destroy?" L'Arachel throws her arm around her boon companion.

"Of course!" Dozla booms. "Just as I've always done, I'll guard the princess with my very life! You needn't fear if I'm there! Why, I'm raring to go - I'll need to polish my axes, gwa ha!"

Mansel holds up a hand. "Please, hold a moment. L'Arachel - are you certain this is what you want? Have you been speaking to Saaga?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Ah, no reason…" Mansel gazes down at his hands in his lap. "I suppose...you are nearly grown, after all. And at your age, your mother was running all about Rausten. But to travel past Rausten's borders, as the only heir to the throne...you are placing yourself in quite a lot of danger, do you see? I cannot risk something happening to you, and yet...what you speak is true. To hold a daughter of Rausten from her heroic fate, to stop her from battling evil...I would be committing a grave crime to do such a thing. You see why I am conflicted?"

"But you needn't be conflicted, Uncle. I will be safe, you'll see!" L'Arachel kneels before Mansel's chair, places her hands over his. "This is my sacred duty. I cannot simply shirk it. And I am far too strong to allow monsters to come between myself and returning safely home!"

"I know, my dear. I know. But I cannot help but worry, you see? You are all that I have. Then again...I suppose I knew that, eventually, this day would come. No daughter of Madelaine and Demont would remain still for long when danger threatened the land. Very well."

L'Arachel's heart soars. "Then you mean it? You're letting me go?"

"Give me a week to make preparations. I will not send you off defenseless. Then...yes. You and Dozla may go. I shall send word to the docks in Melkaen Coast, and prepare a ship that will take you to Carcino. From there, you will be able to travel overland through Frelia. I must insist on one thing more, though."

"What is it, Uncle?"

"You mustn't tell anyone that you are the princess of Rausten, or anything regarding your true identity. You need to act as an anonymous traveling hero - and while it would be futile to ask you to disguise your noble bearing, please try to remain discreet about your origins. You may act a member of the Rausten nobility, but do not share that you are a princess. You could very well be placed in danger if you do so - outside of Rausten, I will be unable to protect you from any of it."

"I suppose that makes sense, Uncle. And it is decidedly more romantic, I suppose. Imagine, a wandering warrior of light, hidden in a secretive fog of mystery - ah, how exciting!" L'Arachel clasps her hands together. "Yes, yes, the more I think about it, that is a splendid idea! I will make certain not to share my princess-hood with any outside of Rausten!"

"Thank you, L'Arachel. That is the only thing you need worry about - it is not as if you have ever left Rausten, so none should recognize your face. I will see to assigning your guard and getting supplies for your trip. But first...there is something I would like for you to have." Mansel turns and pulls open a desk drawer, removing a locked box. He withdraws a tiny key from a chain around his neck, and unlocks it, then rummages a bit and removes another, smaller, box, which he opens. Within is a small, gleaming ruby. Beside L'Arachel, Dozla makes a small noise of awe.

"It is beautiful," L'Arachel whispers as Mansel holds the ruby up to the light, and then recognition dawns on her. "Is that - from Father's ring - "

"Yes. You have keen eyes, my dear. This gem has been passed down our family for many generations. It is valuable, but its true purpose is in sentiment. It was given as a gift, from each of our direct ancestors, to the person they most cherished, and wished to spend their lives with. It is said to bless a couple, so that they never would fall out of love - and indeed, every marriage bound with this gem has been said to have been a joyous one. Most recently, it was a gift from your mother to your father, shortly after their meeting - a sign that she wished to be together with him, always. He had it set into a ring that he wore until the end of his life - the ring itself was destroyed when he died, but the gem was unharmed, and was passed into my possession. I intended to give it to you as a gift for your eighteenth birthday, but if you are heading out now...perhaps you will meet that special person on your journey. Your mother wasn't much older than you when she met your father after all, on a similar heroic trip. And if you do not, then...simply keep it with you, as a token of your parents, and all those before them. May it give you strength." Mansel places the gem in L'Arachel's palm.

L'Arachel throws her arms around him. "Oh, thank you, Uncle! Thank you so much! For the gem, and even more, for saying yes - I will make you and our ancestors proud, I promise!"

Mansel hugs her back. "I know, dearest. I know. You already have."

\---

On the day of L'Arachel's departure, the weather is lovely. L'Arachel's horse is saddled, her bags packed, and her staff strapped across her back. Dozla stretches, his axe gleaming in the morning light. Everything is perfect.

Well, not entirely perfect.

"I said I would take Dozla, not a battalion of soldiers! How can I do good with all of these people accompanying me!" L'Arachel gestures to the offending group - a dozen-odd armed guards, standing at attention. "This was not what we agreed to!"

"Please, Princess…" the guard captain says. "Your holy uncle has entrusted us with - we are simply concerned for your safety - "

"Concern aside, how am I to get anything done in this crowd? Nobody will even be able to hear my battle entrances! This simply won't do!"

"But, Your Highness - "

"But, nothing! I have given you orders to stay behind! Or would you care to be thrown in the dungeons?" L'Arachel's face is turning red. She is a hero of justice! Heroes of justice do not cower behind their uncle's armies!

"Come now, L'Arachel," Mansel coaxes, having hurried out of the castle at the sound of the commotion. "If it troubles you, you needn't take them all. Just a few men."

"One or two more spare hands could be useful, Princess," says Dozla, laying a hand on L'Arachel's shoulder. "Bodyguarding's a tough job, after all. I could do with having a bit of help."

"Hmm…" L'Arachel considers it. "If you could benefit from it, Dozla, I suppose it would be fair…" Her eyes sweep the crowd, and then alight on a young man opening the front door to the palace. "You, there!"

The man starts at the sound of her voice and turns as if to flee, for some odd reason.

"Yes, you! Come here at once, or I shall have the guards seize you!"

The man looks hurriedly back and forth, then at the mass of guards, and finally slinks over. "Er, this - this isn't what it looks like, see? I, er, got lost, and - "

"What it looks like? It looks like you've been neglecting your duty!" L'Arachel cries.

The man's head snaps up. "Wha - "

"Your duty as a member of the Rausten Guard! You haven't put on your uniform! It's disgraceful, honestly! Look at that scruffy coat - "

"Scruffy!? Er, wait. You...Yeah. Yeah, that's right. I forgot my uniform, see? Awfully embarrassing. Well, just let me go, and I'll go put it on…" He starts to sidle away.

"Just a moment." L'Arachel sizes the man up. He's slight, with long, unkempt brown hair tied back in a ponytail. There's a sword hanging from his belt. "You...you're perfect!"

"Perfect?"

"To be my bodyguard! For my holy mission as a princess of Rausten! Your sword and small build will be a perfect counterpoint to Dozla's axe and bulging muscles! Why, it's simply a perfect idea! Don't you agree, Uncle?"

"It is an interesting proposal, L'Arachel." Mansel muses. "He was acting out of line, though, not wearing his uniform or joining the formation…"

"All the better! I can whip him into shape, make him a proper Rausten guard! What is your name, then?"

The shabby-looking man shakes his head. "Look, lady - er, Princess. I'm just a...a mercenary, that's it. A humble mercenary. My name is Rennac. I was coming to the palace to see if there was any work for a mercenary such as myself. But since I'm a mercenary, I've got to be paid, see? And seeing as you're a princess..."

"Very well, then, very well. A mercenary, not a soldier," L'Arachel cuts him off. "Either way is fine, I am certain you will be excellent at guarding me."

"Hey, were you listening to - "

"We've dallied enough! We must away!" L'Arachel hugs her uncle one last time, then turns to mount her horse. "Farewell, Uncle! Farewell, my dear Rausten! I will see you all again as a stronger princess, in a happier Magvel!"

A cheer rises from the watching guards, and L'Arachel digs her heels into her horse's side. "Away then, Theia! Let us off!"

She rides away, cheers and shouts of farewell echoing from the gathered crowd.

"W-wait," Rennac splutters. "I don't have a horse. How am I supposed to - "

"Gwa ha ha! That's the challenge, isn't it?" booms Dozla. "You just gotta keep going and try to catch up to her - don't worry, she'll stop eventually when she gets lost! Come on, then - first one to fall on his face buys a round of drinks!"

Rennac gives a moan as Dozla hurries off towards the retreating dust cloud that is L'Arachel, then begrudgingly starts running as well.

Mansel smiles, clasping his hands softly in front of him. "Well, Madelaine, Demont...what do you think of your little L'Arachel now? Please...watch over her."

\---

Monster-hunting is always terribly exciting. It takes some time for them to find their first bunch, but as they pass near the border of Darkling Woods, such an encounter is inevitable.

"What the _hell_ are those!?" Rennac yelps at the sight of a group of bonewalkers. "And why are we riding _towards_ them!?"

"To fight them, silly!" L'Arachel laughs. "What else? I can tell you aren't native to Rausten - most people know the sight of a common fiend such as a bonewalker! They aren't terribly vicious, despite the smell. Just give them a good hard whack and they fall right apart! Right, Dozla?"

"I prefer the slashing in half technique myself, my lady! But the whacking is also an excellent method!" Dozla heaves his axe over his shoulder. "Gwa ha ha! I can hardly wait!"

"You're insane," Rennac mutters frantically. "You're both insane. I should just run - "

"Too late, they've spotted us!" says L'Arachel cheerfully. "Ready your weapon - here we go!"

Dozla swings his axe into the lead bonewalker, laughing uproariously. L'Arachel bonks another hard over the head with her staff; it staggers, and Dozla slashes it to pieces. Rennac is slicing his way through more bonewalkers, and although he is lamenting his fate with every blow, he is easily holding his own. On the rare occasion one of the other two takes a blow, L'Arachel quickly heals any injuries.

"Well, that barely wetted my thirst!" Dozla comments, when all the monstrous figures are lying in the dirt. "They barely put up a fight, huh, Lady L'Arachel?"

"A demon slayed is a demon slayed, Dozla! Though I suppose it was a bit dull. Oh well."

" _Dull_? I'm covered in zombie blood! There's nothing _dull_ about that!" Rennac gibbers.

"It washes off easily, Rennac, don't fret. Though perhaps I should take the opportunity to purchase garb for you that is a tad more becoming of a princess's guard - "

"You're undercover, remember? And what's unbecoming about my clothes?"

"Gwa ha ha!" Dozla slaps his belly. "You're hilarious, Rennac! You bring a great deal of humor to our escapades. It is enjoyable."

"Shut up! What even were those things?" Rennac demands.

"Monsters!" says L'Arachel cheerily.

"I know that! Where did they come from?"

"Darkling Woods, where the Demon King was slayed and his body now rests," says L'Arachel, cleaning monster blood off her staff. "Here in Rausten, everyone knows the tales. The Demon King's remaining foul energy takes form in horrible creatures, who sometimes cross the forest borders and venture into Rausten. The royal family and their knights traditionally keep them at bay to protect the populace, but their numbers have been increasing of late, to the point where they are even appearing far outside of Darkling Woods, elsewhere in Magvel! Hence our journey now. Any further questions?"

"No, that...that about sums it up," says Rennac, staring at the bonewalker corpses. "How come people outside of Rausten don't know about this?"

"Well, monsters haven't been sighted outside of Rausten for eight hundred years! They have been forgotten, turned into folklore. But those of us born and raised in Rausten know better. Hence why it is the duty of us Rausten folk to protect the rest of the continent from the wicked beings."

"Gwa ha ha! So gallant, Princess L'Arachel!"

"Thank you, Dozla. So you see, Rennac? There is nothing to fear. I know plenty about these beasts, and Dozla does too. Stick with us, and you'll be just fine!"

"I never said I was sticking with you! But…" Rennac looks around at the battlefield, strewn with monster bits. "I guess that actually wasn't so bad. I can do it a few more times…"

"That's the spirit, Rennac! Onward we go! To Melkaen Coast!" Theia rears up, and L'Arachel takes off once more.

\---

"I must say, the seafood in Frelia is quite lovely," says L'Arachel, scraping her fork along her plate to collect the last dregs of her meal. "It is rather nice here - nothing compared to the cuisine of my beloved Rausten, of course, but still enjoyable. Then again, there is no place like home, is there?"

Rennac's head is resting on the table. L'Arachel pokes him with her fork. "Rennac? Rennac, have you died? Inform me that you are not dead."

"I _wish_ I was dead," Rennac moans into the table.

"Is your food not agreeing with you? You've hardly touched it."

"Gar ha ha! I can finish that for you, if you want!" Dozla volunteers from the other side of the table, his voice thundering through the dining area of the Frelian inn they are staying at. Everyone in the room (save the little trio at their table) jumps.

"It's been _months_ ," Rennac moans. "Months we've been wandering this godforsaken continent. I thought you knew where you were going!"

"Grado, of course. And we're right on track! Grado is at the southernmost point of Magvel, and Frelia is further south than Rausten, so we're well on our way. Now, chin up, Rennac!"

"No," comes the muffled voice in the table. "My chin hurts. And my legs, and my back, and my arms, and all of me…"

"Well, that's 'cause you've banged your head on the table there," Dozla tells him helpfully. "That'll leave a bruise, y'know! Have Lady L'Arachel take a look at it - "

"Not because of the table, old man!" Rennac turns his head to look at Dozla accusingly. "Because of all this godforsaken running! Buy a man a horse if you're going to make him charge around like that! And don't get me started on all the gods-damned monsters! And that's all we've been doing! For months!"

"It's only been _two_ months, Rennac. I never said being a hero of justice would be easy, you know! There's no need to fuss so. We've been having a wonderful time, after all! Fighting monsters, seeing the sights, meeting fascinating people…"

"Yeah, fascinating like that village girl six towns back that you kept trying to 'court honorably,'" Rennac snorts. "But I didn't sign on for any of this! I just thought I was escorting you to your summer home or a ball or something!"

"What did you think an ally of righteousness such as myself would be doing? Honestly, I simply cannot make sense of you at times." L'Arachel shakes her head.

"The feeling is mutual, believe me," Rennac mutters.

"Regardless, you needn't fuss so. We're only a day's ride from the border of Renais, after all! There's lots of exciting sights to see there, I daresay. So don't be so gloomy."

"Right as ever, Prince - _Lady_ L'Arachel!" Dozla booms, and the inn's residents all jump again. "Now, then, a round of drinks and dessert, maybe?"

"I hate my life," Rennac moans.

\---

They cross the border into Renais about a week after that conversation in the inn (a day's ride can become a week's so quickly, when one is a busy ally of justice!) The next few weeks of their trip aren't particularly eventful - eventually, the trio finds themselves staying at a small boarding house in a town not terribly far from Castle Renais. That day, unbeknownst to L'Arachel, is a day that will live in infamy across the continent for years to come.

"You can almost see the castle, if you squint. Can you see it, Rennac? Rennac, aren't you paying attention?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's grand or whatever. Can we please get moving? I really do want to finish this mission or whatever it is. Before I die. Because I really might die first." Rennac rolls his eyes and looks over his shoulder. "C'mon, old man. Shake a leg."

"Coming, coming!" Dozla comes running to join the other two. "Ready to head out, Lady L'Arachel!"

"Good. Then, today - " L'Arachel's words are cut off by a shout. It's early morning, and few people are out on the streets, but they all turn at the sound.

A man is running up the street, panting. "Everyone - you won't believe - " He falls to his knees, exhausted. "Grado - Grado has launched an attack on Renais! Emperor Vigarde has declared war!"

"Grado?" A woman gasps. "But - "

"Isn't Grado Renais's most trusted ally?"

"We're going to war?"

"But aren't Grado's soldiers the strongest on the continent? We can't possibly - "

"That can't be!"

"What will the king do?"

"What of Prince Ephraim? Isn't he supposed to be an incredible soldier - "

"He's only one man! What's he gonna do?"

The ruckus and commotion is overwhelming as people pour out into the streets, talking over each other in fear and panic. L'Arachel strides through the crowd, and they hurry out of the way as she marches confidently forward. She bends down to face the kneeling man. "You, there."

The man looks up at her. "Wh-who are you?"

"Simply an anonymous hero of light and justice, my good sir!" The man's face is still filled with puzzlement - news of her exploits hasn't traveled this far south, she wagers. "Er, regardless of that, can you enlighten me as to what's happened?"

The man blinks. "Ah, w-well...the soldiers came pouring into Renais a few days ago. They've already taken several border settlements! It was a surprise attack! Nobody saw it coming, and the border guards were quickly overwhelmed. I came from there to spread the word - Grado's soldiers are coming, and they're moving fast - they'll reach the capital in a week at the most!"

L'Arachel looks back at her companions. "Dozla, Rennac - we must confer in secrecy to decide our next move. Away!" She darts away from the nonplussed man into a nearby alley, beckoning to the other two to follow. Once they're all in, she pulls them into a huddle.

"We mustn't alert these fine folks as to my secret identity," L'Arachel whispers subtly (Rennac still winces.) "But what are we to do here? It seems Renais is about to be embroiled in war."

"Hm...this whole thing is a puzzle, to be sure, milady." Dozla strokes his beard thoughtfully. "I thought Grado and Renais were close allies...weren't they? I can't say I recall much of my civics lessons…"

"Yes...Grado, Renais, and Frelia share tight bonds of friendship, and have for many generations. I never would have expected one of them to declare war on the others." L'Arachel pulls back from the huddle, folding her arms. "I cannot understand this, it simply makes no sense. None at all!"

"Huh…" Rennac leans against the alley wall. "Not that I know much about blueblood quarrels, but...it does sound a little fishy. Then again, can we really trust Little Miss Head-In-The-Clouds to have noticed if war was brewing? Maybe this was a long time coming."

L'Arachel puffs out her cheeks. "Honestly, Rennac, my name is _L'Arachel_. If you've forgotten it, you need only ask."

Rennac jabs a thumb at her. "My case in point."

Dozla scratches his head. "I don't get it...what case?"

Rennac throws his arms skywards and rolls his head back. "Why do I always feel insane around you two?"

L'Arachel elects to ignore him. Rennac is simply being Rennac. "Regardless, I really am quite certain that there was no ill will between Grado and Renais - at least that I know of. Rausten held a diplomatic council less than a year ago - Renais's King Fado and Grado's Emperor Vigarde both attended, and seemed to be in good spirits. They sat together at all meetings, and even dined together, along with King Hayden of Frelia."

"And you noticed that?" Rennac snorts. "Because _you're_ always so observant."

"I am perfectly observant! It's the first time I attended such a council, of course I would have noticed! Besides, Rausten may be somewhat removed from the rest of the continent, but Uncle frequently speaks of inter-country matters, and he would definitely have mentioned something if ill will was brewing between any of our allies. No, no, whatever happened here was recent, and sudden." L'Arachel purses her lips. "I simply can't fathom what it is, though."

"What should we do, though, milady?" asks Dozla. "Our plans will need to change - after all, sounds like Renais is in for a tough time of it!"

"It certainly is, Dozla - Grado's military power is well-renowned throughout the continent as being by far the strongest. And this was a surprise attack, to boot." L'Arachel is deep in thought. "I do feel terrible for Renais - assuming this attack was indeed unprovoked and they are, in fact, blameless. Regardless, they are unlikely to be able to win this war…"

Rennac kicks at a loose stone. "All you nobles are the same to me. Always looking to stab each other in the backs. Grado probably just saw an opportunity and struck. But none of it really matters much. There's a war brewing, so we should probably just turn tail back to Rausten and put an end to this whole mess."

"I fail to see how returning to Rausten would stop a war, Rennac."

"By 'mess' I mean this little pilgrimage of yours. I was hired to protect you from monsters, not two warring armies. Let's just back on out of here before things get really hairy. That's my vote. Not that you ever listen to me…"

"But we cannot do that!" L'Arachel cries, heedless of confused onlookers peering into the alleyway. "No, no, my mission is to protect the people of Magvel! If a war is breaking out, the villagers living here will be in even more danger - from the armies, and from brigands and monsters taking advantage of the chaos. Am I to just leave them be?"

"Get it through that thick skull of yours, kid!" Rennac stalks towards her. "If Grado really is just going on a power-hungry rampage, do you think they'll really stop at Renais? They'll keep going - right through Frelia, then into Jehanna and Carcino, and where will they go from there?"

"Why, the only place left would be...Rausten…" L'Arachel frowns. "Ah."

"Finally, she gets it," Rennac drawls. "So what should we be doing now, _milady_? If you don't want Grado to turn up on your uncle's doorstep and crush him alongside the rest of them…"

"Yes, yes...you do have a point." L'Arachel considers her options. "I suppose...perhaps it is time to return to Rausten. A shame that our journey is being cut short so soon, but I should tell Uncle all that has transpired, and aid him in preparing for a potential attack on our homeland." Her shoulders slump a bit. "Do you think...Grado can really conquer the entire continent?"

"Now, Princess, don't fret!" Dozla claps a hand on L'Arachel's shoulder, making her knees buckle. "Grado's got to get to us first - and that means taking out four countries, none of which are going to take things lying down! It'll be months before they can make it to Rausten, assuming they can at all!"

"You are correct, Dozla. After all, Frelia is certain to launch a counteroffensive when they catch wind of things here." Cheered again, L'Arachel nods, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "I have decided! My brilliant idea to return to Rausten is a sound one! We will away back the way we came! To my steed!" She races out of the alleyway, and with a bark of "Gar ha ha!" Dozla shoots after her.

Rennac gives a heavy sigh, slumping. "I can't believe that worked."

"Come along now, Rennac!" L'Arachel's voice echoes down the alley. "No time for dillydallying!"

"Right, right, coming." Rennac peels himself off the wall and slouches out of the alleyway.

(Elsewhere, a blue-haired princess sees her brother off to war.)

\---

_"They say Prince Ephraim is leading a charge against Grado while King Fado defends the homeland."_

_"The prince himself? But if the heir dies…"_

_"Well, there's still Princess Eirika. She's back in the capital, supporting her father."_

_"They've taken more and more ground. They've been sending their most powerful generals. It's only a matter of time…"_

_"Why is Emperor Vigarde doing this? He and the king are - were - such close friends! I thought he cared about peace above all…"_

_"It's not like any of us have ever met him. Maybe it was all a show."_

_"Still…"_

_"What will happen to us if Renais falls?"_

_"I don't know. Hopefully Grado will be kind to us…"_

\---

L'Arachel studies a map laid across the rickety table, tilting her head slowly. "Hmmm…"

"Don't tell me. Please, don't tell me." Rennac has his head on the table again, an oddly frequent happenstance. "Don't tell me we're lost. Again."

"We aren't lost! Simply...in a different location from the one we intended to be in! It seems destiny has led us to a place we didn't expect, again! Ah, isn't fate filled with surprises, Dozla?"

"It certainly is, milady!" Dozla booms. The tavern they are seated in is largely deserted, but the barkeep nearly shatters the glass he's holding.

"It's not surprising at this point. I don't know why I didn't expect this." Rennac mumbles into the table. "Please just put me out of my misery already…"

"Oh, Rennac, it's hardly a problem. We've gone in a bit of a circle, it's true," says L'Arachel, rolling up the map, "but now I'm certain I can get us back on track! Renais is a tricky place, is it not?"

"I suppose I should count myself lucky we haven't wandered into Jehanna," Rennac's muffled voice responds. "But - "

There's a scream from outside, and the sound of thundering hoofbeats. L'Arachel leaps to her feet, knocking her chair over backwards, and bolts outside, staff in hand. Dozla and Rennac are right beside her, weapons drawn, as she throws the inn door open.

A group of soldiers in heavy black armor stand are riding down the city streets. Townspeople are fleeing, scrambling to get out of the way of the thundering hooves, ducking inside and slamming their shutters and doors shut. The soldiers jeer and hiss at them, heedless of anything - or _anyone_ \- in their path.

The violet and black flag of Grado is displayed proudly.

L'Arachel huffs and lifts her staff, preparing to issue a challenge, but Rennac grabs her arm and drags her behind a stack of nearby barrels. Dozla hastily follows them, although the barrels do little to obscure his width.

"How dare you manhandle a lady - " L'Arachel hisses, but Rennac puts a finger to his own lips and motions at the soldiers. They have reached the center of town square, and come to a halt. One soldier blows a horn, and silence falls across the town. A few people peek out of their windows, and those left outside back up slowly in terror.

"Listen well, Renais dogs," the commanding officer barks, and his voice sends chills down L'Arachel's spine. "We come bearing news. King Fado is dead."

It is already as quiet as death in the town, but at the news, the air itself seems to grow stiller, colder, emptier.

"Your ruler has fallen. His children have fled. Renais - or what's _left_ of it - is now the vassal state of Grado." A twisted smile creeps up the man's face. "That means this town is now part of Grado, and you lot are our citizens. Cooperate, and you won't be harmed. _Much_."

L'Arachel turns to her companions, heart racing. "So Renais is…"

"If the king is dead," says Dozla, face surprisingly grave, "then Renais is gone."

"He said the prince and princess fled," says L'Arachel. "Perhaps they yet live?"

"For now," says Rennac darkly. "We should get out of here. We'll attract...unwanted attention. And even Meaty over here isn't going to be able to do much against a whole battalion."

"But all these people…" says L'Arachel, looking around the barrels at the cowering townsfolk. The commander is barking orders.

"It can't be helped, milady," says Dozla, taking her arm. "Even the greatest hero must retreat sometimes."

"I suppose you're correct," sighs L'Arachel. "It is a terrible shame, but...we...we should gather our things, and continue on our way to Rausten. We shall make our way to Carcino, and commission a vessel there to take us home. But I do wish there was something more we could do here."

"This isn't our battle, L'Arachel," says Dozla. "Don't fret so. We'll be able to help once we're back in Rausten, and warning the populace there will make you a gallant hero, I'm sure of it! A true hero always knows how to make sacrifices!"

"Hm, you are right about that, Dozla. It _is_ quite noble and valiant of me to put my own adventures on hold to ensure my citizens are safe, after all…"

"Exactly, exactly, milady! You truly are wise and noble!"

"It is decided, then! Now, we should head off!"

" _Quietly_ ," Rennac hisses, but the other two are already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we're just about caught up with the main game's events! woo!


	3. Ancient Horrors

There are so many monsters.

It seems every day, L'Arachel and her group encounter another dozen of them. Most are fairly weak, and the trio is able to make short work of them, but the quantity is increasing. If they aren't hiding from Grado soldiers, they're fighting more monsters. L'Arachel isn't objecting, though - after all, her divine mission seems to be presenting itself to her, even without her seeking it out! - but it is disconcerting that the monsters are multiplying even faster, despite being so far from Darkling Woods. The battles get them turned around, and so, a good few weeks after the fall of Renais, they still haven't made it to Frelia.

L'Arachel cheerfully cleans monster blood off Theia's bridle. "Well, that battle went quite well! Rennac, you're improving at monster-slaying - we'll make a true ally of justice out of you yet!"

Rennac doesn't answer her. L'Arachel is rather used to that, and pushes on. "What of you, Dozla? Hanging in there?"

"Gahaha! No need to worry about me, Lady L'Arachel - I'm raring to go! For you, milady, I would battle a thousand monsters, with my hands bound behind my back! No, my hands sawed off!" Dozla slams his axe into the ground, hard enough that Rennac jumps. "I just wonder, Lady L'Arachel - are we still returning to Rausten?"

"Ah. Well. About that...You see, I had gotten rather distracted by all of our thrilling encounters with dark creatures...and…I may not have been exactly paying attention to where we were going..."

"No…" Rennac moans. "Please tell me you're not going to say what I think you're going to say."

L'Arachel rummages in her saddlebags and pulls out her map. "Ah ha! So...if Serafew is here, then...well, suffice to say, we seem to be nowhere near the border to Frelia at all! In fact, we are far closer to the Grado border instead! Once again, divine providence has led us down an unexpected road!"

Rennac sinks to his knees and then keels forward face first.

"Oh dear, Rennac's fallen again," L'Arachel sighs. "Dozla, would you mind carrying him?"

"No problem at all, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla boasts, trotting over to Rennac's prone form. "Up and over the shoulder we go - "

"Don't touch me!" Rennac snaps. "Don't. Just leave me here to die in peace."

"You really must take better care of yourself, Rennac. Up you get, now. We've got more ground to cover." L'Arachel stows her map. "North it is, then! Away!"

Rennac staggers to his feet and drags himself after them in a rather bonewalker-esque fashion. Dozla gives a roar of laughter and hastens to her side. The ride continues at a rather peaceful pace (aside from the occasional Rennac grumble, which L'Arachel steadfastly ignores) until L'Arachel hears a shout, and the sound of clashing blades.

"What could that be?" L'Arachel snaps Theia's reins. "We must investigate at once!"

"And here we go," Rennac mumbles.

L'Arachel urges Theia to the edge of the nearby cliff, following the sounds. Below, in the valley, there is a group of monsters, locked in battle with a group of people. It's too high for L'Arachel to make out much, but there are quite a lot of monsters, and not nearly as many humans.

L'Arachel gasps. "Oh, my! Those travelers are being besieged by the agents of evil!"

Dozla hurries up alongside her, and looks down as well. "Ha ha ha! Right you are, Lady L'Arachel!"

"I cannot allow this to happen!" L'Arachel shakes her head. "Come! We must charge down these cliffs and rush to their aid!"

At that very moment, down below them, a mogall collapses in a heap of gore, and from behind it emerges...a woman.

In that instant, time seems to slow and narrow a bit, at least for L'Arachel. L'Arachel can't see the woman's face clearly, but she has long turquoise hair, and wears shining gold armor. She is splattered with blood and monster guts, and holds in her hand a shimmering, slender sword. As L'Arachel watches, a bonewalker swings its lance clumsily at the woman. She swoops beneath the blade as easily as a thought, easily sidestepping the blow and plunging her blade through its chest in a single, smooth motion. Her hair flows like water, her blade forming a magnificent arc through the air as she yanks it free and pulls back, the bonewalker falling in a heap at her feet. The woman tosses her hair out of her face and races towards the next foe.

And although she is far away, L'Arachel's heart stutters slightly in her chest. She turns to the cliff edge, making to begin her heroic descent, to lend the mysterious woman her aid...

"We charge down these cliffs, and the only thing we'll be rushing to is death," Rennac interjects, throwing an arm in front of her. "How about we find us a nice, gentle path down, hm?"

Time continues at its regular pace once more. L'Arachel shakes her head, snaps back to the moment and takes in her surroundings. The cliff _is_ quite steep, and rocky. "Ah...Yes, well...Let us hurry nonetheless. I simply cannot abide these wicked beasts running amok!"

Rennac gestures and the other two follow. It takes several minutes, but they do eventually find a path leading down into the valley. It requires being slow and steady, and L'Arachel taps a foot against Theia's side in impatience. "Goodness, being cautious can make things so dull at times."

"Dull, but alive," Rennac says. "Honestly, you'd be dead fifty times over if you hadn't dragged me along. Lucky for you I showed up when I did."

"I've no need of luck, Rennac! It is the blessing of the gods themselves that sustain me - Look, we're almost there!"

L'Arachel urges Theia into a run, skidding to a halt when she nearly crashes into the group of travelers. "Aha! Foul creatures, beware! I, L'Arachel, bestow upon you the honor of banishment at my blessed hands!"

The group turns towards her, staring with vague puzzlement. They are alone. There is not a living creature in sight who isn't human.

L'Arachel blinks. "Oh...Where are the monsters?"

Someone steps forward - a young woman.  _The_ young woman, the one L'Arachel had spied earlier, and at the sight of her, L'Arachel's heart does that inconvenient stutter once again. The woman's face is soft, but there is a firmness in her eyes - eyes the same vivid turquoise as her hair. Her armor, beneath the monster remnants, is red and gold.

She is incredibly, staggeringly, _frighteningly_ beautiful.

The woman's pretty face is laced with confusion. "Well, we just finished…"

They all seem unhurt as well, and relief fills L'Arachel's chest. "Ah, glad tidings indeed! The heavens must be rejoicing!" L'Arachel's smile falters, and her shoulders droop. "I am...a tad disappointed, however. After all, I did rush all the way here to show you the splendor of my might."

Dozla and Rennac come panting up to join them. Dozla is beaming, as usual. "Gwah ha ha! It's a real shame, isn't it, Lady L'Arachel?"

"What's shameful is the way you drag us around the countryside," Rennac scoffs.

The woman lifts a gloved hand. "Pardon me, but...who are you?"

"Me? Since you ask, please allow me to introduce myself." L'Arachel twirls her staff through the air, striking a triumphant pose. "It is I, the true light and glory of the sacred realm of Rausten…"

"Stop!" Dozla reaches up and grabs her arm. "Lady L'Arachel, you mustn't continue! You cannot reveal your true identity here!"

L'Arachel blinks. "Oh, yes, you're right. Oh, I get so careless sometimes!" The idea of dramatically revealing herself to this lovely woman simply overwhelmed her common sense. Well, the idea of being cloaked in mystery feels appealing too...

L'Arachel waves to the group. "Now, I must ride off in anonymity. Oh, how beautifully romantic!"

The woman is staring at her. "Uh...right."

"Fare thee well, strangers. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Come, Dozla! Rennac! We ride!" L'Arachel twirls her staff again, turning to urge Theia back up the cliff path.

Dozla hefts his axe over his shoulder. "Gwah ha ha! Let's go, Rennac!"

Rennac rolls his eyes. "All right, all right."

They hurry away, L'Arachel being careful to maintain her flawless posture until they are well out of sight of the turquoise-haired woman and her group.

Rennac is the first to speak, for once. "I can't believe you almost spilled the secret."

"I simply forgot myself. I do have my moments of carelessness, you know." L'Arachel sniffs, tossing her hair. "We all do, from time to time."

"Yeah. 'Moments.'" Rennac gives a rather undignified snort. "You were just trying to show off for that girl."

L'Arachel feels her cheeks heat slightly. "Yes, well. She did catch my attention, I must admit. A woman such as herself...She had a distinctly noble bearing. I wonder who she was? Certainly no commoner…"

"You might actually be right about that one," says Rennac. "I know a blueblood when I see one...she had some decent moves, but her armor was definitely too fancy to be anything else. Wonder what she was doing out here in the boonies?"

"Gwa ha ha! Excellent observational skills, then, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla cheers. "Her sword was awfully pretty, too...some kind of rapier, I reckon. You don't see villagers carrying those around!"

"Hmm…" L'Arachel muses. "I wonder if we shall see her again."

"Well, if we don't stop going in circles, we probably will," Rennac snorts. "Hey, give me the map. I'll get us to Carcino."

"How kind of you to offer, Rennac!" L'Arachel turns to her saddlebags. "You are simply full of surprises!"

She passes the map to Rennac, and as he loudly laments the fact that he hadn't done this sooner, and bickers with Dozla over which way north is, L'Arachel's thoughts drift.

She hopes she gets to see the turquoise-haired woman again.

\---

The next few weeks pass in relative peace. Rennac refuses to relinquish control of the map, despite L'Arachel's wheedling, and eventually she decides to just let him have it. They return to Frelia, and make their way back in Carcino's direction. Rumors float in their direction when they pass through various towns and cities - that Frelia has retaliated and declared war on Grado for its actions, that Frelia has largely been able to fend off the Grado troops at their borders (though with a few losses, including the destruction of the sacred Tower of Valni), that Princess Eirika and Prince Ephraim have both been sighted alive and have joined forces with Frelia to advance the war…

"That is interesting," says L'Arachel, hearing the townsfolk gossip. "The prince and princess of Renais...I do wonder what they are like."

"I'd have thought you'd've met them, kid," says Rennac. "Royal-baby daycare, and stuff."

"No, I...until this trip, I had never ventured outside of Rausten. I have met King Fado a few times, when he journeyed to us, but he never brought his children with him. I understand that they are about my age." L'Arachel gazes into her drink. "I...didn't have many playmates, as a child."

"You had me, milady!" Dozla booms.

"I did, Dozla. I was certainly not lonely! But I did wonder what it would be like to meet Fado's children, and others my age…" L'Arachel shrugs. "It matters not now. I am happy to hear that they live, though. Now, if you've finished your drinks, we should really be getting on soon! Port Kiris is mere days away!"

"Aye aye, Lady L'Arachel!" calls Dozla, draining his tankard in one gulp. "Off we go, then!"

\---

Port Kiris is almost exactly how L'Arachel recalls it having been back at the start of her journey. Bustling, crowded, and thoroughly entertaining, with a massive array of people to meet and sights to see. However, a few things have changed.

"What do you mean, no ships are leaving port?"

"I am so sorry, Your Highness," says the Grand Marshal of Port Kiris. "It is just that. There simply aren't any ships leaving port."

"Well, when will one be leaving, then? Our business is most urgent," says L'Arachel, glancing over her shoulder at Dozla and Rennac, who both shrug. "I will settle for a less grand ship, if needed. Even a merchant ship! That would be delightfully quaint."

The Grand Marshal shakes his head. He is sweating, and shifting from foot to foot. "I don't know when the docks will be usable again, but...certainly not any time soon. You see, I know this sounds unfathomable, but...there is a ghost ship haunting the Magvel seas."

"A ghost ship?" L'Arachel tilts her head. "Do elaborate."

"I don't know much about it," says the man, twisting his hat in his ruddy hands. "But nearly every ship that has left port in the last few weeks has sunk...the few survivors all told collaborating stories. A terrible fog creeps in, and from it, a ship manned by…" The Grand Marshal drops his voice, "...monsters."

"Monsters? Well, is that all?"

"I-I know it sounds unbelievable, but - "

"Oh, not at all, my good man!" L'Arachel shakes her head. "Tsk, those foul creatures! How cruel of them to behave in such a fashion! Why, if only I could face this ghost ship myself...but I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest idea of how to commandeer a boat. Dozla, do you happen to know?"

"Gwa ha ha!" Dozla scratches his beard. "I can't say I do, Princess L'Arachel! If I did, I'd surely do it for you, but I don't know the starboard from the poop deck!"

The Grand Marshal stares from L'Arachel to Dozla. "Y...you believe me? About the ghost ship?"

"Why wouldn't I, sir?" L'Arachel gives a deep, gusty sigh. "Oh, well. I would so like to be the one to slay this foul ghost ship, but without a vessel or anyone to sail it, I suppose it won't be happening. Those ghosts should count themselves terribly lucky, for they've narrowly escaped facing my divine might!"

"Um...yes, of course, Princess L'Arachel." The Grand Marshal seems relieved. "Everyone is just too terrified to venture out to sea in these conditions. They lack your, er...bravery. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience…"

"Well, now what?" Rennac demands. "I finally get us all the way up here, and now we're stuck in Carcino until that ghost ship moves on!"

"Don't be silly, Rennac! We aren't stuck at all! Hand me back my map, if you would?"

Rennac begrudgingly fishes the map out of his satchel, and L'Arachel unfurls it and brandishes it triumphantly. "There, see!" She points to the mountain ranges between Carcino, Jehanna, and Rausten. "There is a way to travel by land, and we will simply take that way! No need for any fuss!"

Rennac balks. "But...that route's so long, and through all kinds of dangerous places...places that are probably crawling with monsters…"

"I know! Isn't it splendid? Truly, when the gods block one path, it is only so they can guide us down a greater one!" L'Arachel beams. "Why, we will face such toil and danger - I can scarcely wait! This will mold me into an even greater noble hero and queen than before!"

"Gar ha ha! How invigorating your words are, my princess!" Dozla slaps Rennac on the back, sending the latter stumbling forwards. "I can hardly wait to begin, and see more of your stunning acts of blessed heroism!"

"Nor can I, Dozla! I am terribly excited to see how this experience shapes us all! Let us purchase any necessary supplies for our journey, and we'll be off! Come along, you two! Oh, and - " L'Arachel turns back to the shellshocked-looking Grand Marshal, "please, make no mention of the fact that I, the princess of Rausten, was here! I am on an anonymous quest, you see! It is very important that none know!"

"R-right," the Grand Marshal stammers out, "I'll, er, not tell a soul, milady."

"Splendid! Now, to our divine calling!" L'Arachel marches to the door of the Grand Marshal's office. "Away we go, then!"

Dozla grabs Rennac by the collar, and the band departs the Grand Marshal's office in a chorus of "Onward!" and "Gwahaha!"

The Grand Marshal slumps into his seat, rubbing his hands over his face.

\---

"It. Has been. _Three_ hours," Rennac deadpans as the trio marches down the crowded Port Kiris streets. "We've got our supplies. Let's go."

"Now, now, no need for rush!" says L'Arachel. "Have a pastry, they're sold in the dozens!" She offers him one of the sweets from the paper bag in her arms. "Dozla's had five!"

Rennac makes a noise that sounds rather like a cat being stepped on.

L'Arachel ignores him, returning to her newest find. "Oh, these dainty sugar pastries! They're delightfully scrumptious! Flavorful without being overwhelming, refined without being banal..."

Dozla's voice is slightly muffled, his mouth filled with pastry. "Gwah ha ha! Right you are, Lady L'Arachel!"

Just then, a voice comes from nearby. "You look familiar…"

L'Arachel whirls around, and is suddenly looking up into stunning turquoise eyes. "Oh! Aren't you - "

The young woman nods. Now that they are both on foot, L'Arachel notes that the woman is somewhat taller than L'Arachel herself, with a dignified, noble bearing. "We've met before, haven't we? You arrived with your companions when we encountered those creatures…" She tilts her head. "Your name is L'Arachel, is it not?"

L'Arachel manages a somewhat awkward curtsey, careful of her bag. "A wonder and pleasure that we should meet again so soon! It is providence!"

Rennac scoffs from behind her. "Bad luck is the only thing the divine has ever provided you!"

L'Arachel continues ignoring him (she's gotten quite good at it.) "Oh, and if you have not yet tried one, these pastries are also divine." She rummages in her bag and proffers one to the woman. "Would you care for one?"

The woman takes the pastry, almost automatically. "Uh, thank you…" She shakes her head. "No, wait...That's not why - We're actually on our way to the Theocracy of Rausten. We're rather in a rush and need to find passage on a ship…"

L'Arachel clucks her tongue softly. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid you'll find none to assist you. No ships are leaving port."

"Pardon?"

"You see, I find myself heading home once more to my beloved Rausten as well!" L'Arachel shoves the bag of pastries into Dozla's arms in order to better gesticulate. "And actually, I'm quite well known with the powers-that-be here in Port Kris. So I ordered them to ready the finest passenger vessel for me. But both merchants and passenger ships alike are too frightened to set sail. It seems a giant ghost ship has been sinking every ship it finds...Would that I could confront it, I could stop its foul villainy in a moment." She closes her eyes in sorrow. "Alas. It's such a shame."

"Yes, yes...uh...That is troublesome." The woman furrows her brow, passing the pastry she holds to a tall, stern-looking knight standing at her side. L'Arachel hadn't actually noticed him until that moment. "Still, I must get to Rausten somehow."

"You needn't worry too much." L'Arachel smiles encouragingly. "After all, if the sea is closed to you, simply follow the overland route!"

"The overland route?" The woman bites her lip. "I've heard that's a terribly roundabout path to travel."

"Oh, it is, but don't you see? The hardships of the road, they are truly blessings! They will toughen you and strengthen your resolve when you need to face great evil. For example, I have been tasked with a great trial in order to better me." L'Arachel lifts her chin triumphantly. "I understand my path, O unknowable forces of providence! I, your faithful servant L'Arachel, shall overcome! With faith and divine strength!"

Rennac cuts her off. "Now, listen, L'Arachel! You might be thrilled about going the long way, but - "

L'Arachel waves a hand at him. "Come now, we're leaving. Dozla? Rennac? Don't fall behind!" She drops another quick curtsey to the turquoise-haired woman and then takes off running down the street.

"Gwah ha ha! Wait for us, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla calls after her, and then nudges the smaller man. "Come on, Rennac! We run 'til we drop! The first one to collapse from exhaustion is the winner!"

"Help…Why is this happening to me?" Rennac entreaties of the sky, before following.

\---

It takes a few minutes for Dozla and Rennac to catch up with L'Arachel, who is retrieving Theia from the inn stables. Rennac crumples to the stable floor the instant they make it inside.

"You won!" Dozla tells him proudly. "I knew you had it in you!"

"I wouldn't do that, Rennac," L'Arachel warns. "Stable floors aren't a picture of hygiene, you know."

"My legs feel like jelly," Rennac whimpers. "How are you so fast in those heels?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've barely worked up a sweat! When the gods are guiding you, why, even a full-on sprint feels like a leisurely stroll! You should work out more, Rennac." L'Arachel slips Theia's bridle on.

"I don't have time, what with all the running around and monster slaying," Rennac grumbles, dragging himself to his feet. "Whatever. I'm surprised you pulled your run-away act so fast this time, what with all the goo-goo eyes you've been making at Little Miss Rich Girl."

"Ah...leaving abruptly like that was rather rude of me, wasn't it? And once again, I failed to get her name…" L'Arachel sighs. "I got so caught up in the romantic notion of embarking on another adventure that I completely forgot! Oh, well. If Fate guides us together once again, I will surely make it up to her."

"Woah...L'Arachel admitting she was rude. This girl must really be something," says Rennac. "I'll plan the wedding."

"If you have energy to prattle on, you have energy to help get my saddlebags packed!" L'Arachel throws a hairbrush at his face. "We have a divine mission to set upon! Come along now, come along! And mind you don't wander off!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, they've actually met! Go me! Also Rennac will pretty much never be anything but comic relief in this fic, whoops


	4. Creeping Darkness

"Lady L'Arachel, gahaha, pardon my saying, but..."

"Yes, Dozla?"

"You haven't happened to see Rennac, have you?" Dozla scratches his beard. "I swear he was right behind me a moment ago..."

"Did we leave him in the stables?" L'Arachel muses. "Well, I'm certain he'll turn up soon enough. Now, then...Which way is Rausten, again?"

"That's the other thing, Lady L'Arachel. Y'see, my eyes have alighted on something most unexpected." Dozla points at a nearby sign a few yards behind them, and L'Arachel turns to read it.

"'Frelia Border Crossing'...wait. Hm." L'Arachel taps her chin against her finger. "So we are in...Frelia?"

"But we're not supposed to be in Frelia, right?" Dozla crosses his arms, deep in thought. "How did we get here?"

"Hmmm...it is rather odd..." An idea alights in L'Arachel's mind. "Dozla...Frelia is to the west of Carcino, yes? Have we been going west?"

"Ah, that answers that, then!" Dozla gives a satisfied nod. "We went west, so we're in Frelia! You've puzzled it out, Lady L'Arachel!"

"Rausten is to the east...so then, we should be going...back the way we came! My, traveling is always full of such surprises!" L'Arachel shakes her head as she turns Theia around. "Well, so be it! Back we go through Carcino! Maps are terribly confusing. Especially when you forget to check them. Ah well! All these trials are certainly shaping me into an excellent servant of the gods."

"Gwa ha ha! Back we go indeed! That doesn't answer where Rennac is, though..."

"He does wander off sometimes." L'Arachel waves a hand. "I'm certain he'll turn up. Perhaps we did leave him in Carcino, and he'll rejoin us there. We needn't get caught up in the little details! To Rausten! The correct way this time!"

\---

There are a few more mishaps, but L'Arachel and Dozla eventually reach the mountains nonetheless. The mountain paths of Carcino are treacherous. L'Arachel is frequently forced to dismount and lead Theia carefully by hand in order to cross the narrow ledges, and the further they climb, the fewer settlements there are - until there are none at all, and they are forced to simply make camp in the cold mountain air. The map becomes more and more difficult to follow, until even L'Arachel is forced to admit that they are utterly lost. And while L'Arachel has made it through less-than-ideal circumstances many times since her very first days serving as a battlefield medic, and while a true heroine must suffer through toil and discomfort to truly achieve enlightenment...she does miss the feeling of being indoors. Just a little.

So, when they sight upon an abandoned fort in the midst of a dreadfully foggy day, L'Arachel's heart soars. "Look, Dozla! We could spend a night here to rest! At the very least, it'll be a roof over our heads! And there very well might be provisions! And even beds!"

"Off we go, then, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla salutes, and then follows L'Arachel's lead through the fog and towards the fortress.

"Truly, the gods have blessed us," says L'Arachel. "A night indoors will do us good, I think."

"Right you are there!" says Dozla, swinging his axe to clear away some errant vines creeping across their path. "I feel I've nearly forgotten what ceilings are like, ho ho! But it seems the fates smile down upon your holy mission, milady!"

"Isn't that true," L'Arachel muses. "Aren't you excited, Rennac? ...Ah, yes, he's still missing. I'd all but forgotten. Where do you think he is?"

"Haven't the foggiest, if you don't mind the pun, milady." Dozla strokes his beard. "Perhaps he just needed some fresh air, or the washroom? And got lost on the way back? ...Very, very lost?"

"Well, he'll turn up eventually, I'm sure," says L'Arachel. "We carry on!" They're at the fortress now. Dozla slams his shoulder into an old wooden door, which creaks slowly open, unlocked. L'Arachel and Dozla step inside.

The inside of the fortress is laced with cobwebs, stone walls, and slightly moth-eaten carpet. L'Arachel dismounts, looking around at her new surroundings. Even indoors, the fog still lingers. Theia gives a nervous whinny, lingering close to the door.

“What spacious chambers. Hm…" L'Arachel taps her chin with the head of her staff. "A bit musty, but I like it. I've decided. We'll bed here for the night. I do wonder where Rennac disappeared to, though. I told him not to wander off, but…"

Dozla suddenly hurries closer to her side. "Hmph! Lady L'Arachel, this could be trouble."

"What is it, Dozla?"

"Look there!" Dozla gestures with his axe. "Through that break in the fog…Looks like we've got some nasty creatures running about this place."

L'Arachel squints. "…I can't see a thing." She brightens. "But this can be nothing but good fortune shining down on us again. Losing our way in the mountains and running into these abominations? There can be no doubt: we were brought here to destroy these foul things!" She runs back to Theia and swings a leg over her back. "Come, Dozla! We fight!"

“Gwah ha ha!" Dozla hefts his axe onto his shoulder. "My heart cries out for battle!"

Not a moment later, a bonewalker rushes them, making a dreadful howling sound; Dozla cleaves it in two easily, its lance bouncing harmlessly off his breastplate. L'Arachel stays close behind him, staff at the ready. The next few minutes are the usual exciting, blurry rush of battle - most of the monsters stand little chance against Dozla, but the rare injuries he sustains are little more than scratches that L'Arachel can patch without much effort at all. L'Arachel swerves out of the way of an errant mogall, and Dozla strikes it down with a joyous battle cry.

"I do wonder, how many are there?" L'Arachel comments. "I haven't the faintest idea how big this fortress is…"

"Gar ha ha! Based on their numbers, there's quite a few more rooms. But I think the foul beasts are lurking outside, too! No way we can escape! Only way out is to stand our ground and fight!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" L'Arachel declares, giving one errant bonewalker a sharp tap with her staff.

It staggers backwards, hissing - and then it turns, swings, and its sword pierces Dozla's arm.

"Yeowch!" says Dozla, punching it firmly with his other arm; it falls in a heap.

"Dozla! Are you all right?" L'Arachel hastens closer to examine the wound, and her stomach twists - the cut isn't deep, but the edges are tinged with green. "The creature's blade was tainted with poison...your wound is infected, Dozla."

"Well, that's a bit of a kick in the pants, isn't it? And it's my good axe arm, too!" Dozla sighs. "No need to fret, Princess. As long as you keep healing me, we can delay the spread of the poison, right?"

"R-right. Of course." L'Arachel waves her staff over the wound; it closes, but the green tinge remains. "We'll figure something out! This is not the time to lose our heads! Challenges only make victory ever sweeter!"

"Of course, of course! This battle is quite exciting, isn't it? I truly feel lucky!" Dozla roars with laughter, slicing down two more enemies - then grimacing as the poison hits him again. L'Arachel heals him once more, but her staff is incapable of removing the infection.

There's a sound of a door crashing open behind them, and two gargoyles emerge from the fog. Dozla shouts, leaping into the air and driving his axe into one's head - but while he is occupied, the other stalks in L'Arachel's direction. She readies her staff -

\- and the gargoyle shrieks and falls in a heap, dead.

L'Arachel blinks. "Did I frighten it to death with my fearsome reputation?"

A figure emerges from the fog - a figure with gigantic feathered wings. For a moment, L'Arachel wonders if an angel has descended to bless her - then she realizes the wings belong to a pegasus. A woman about L'Arachel's age is sitting astride it, brandishing a javelin.

"You there, are you all right?" the pegasus rider calls. "That was awfully close - "

"Not at all! The situation was well in hand, but I do appreciate the assistance!" L'Arachel lowers her staff. "I hadn't known there were other people here!"

"I'm with an army. Do you need help getting out?" says the rider. "I can carry you and your friend to safety."

"No need, no need! We're quite happy here. Right, Dozla?"

"Gar ha ha! Indeed, milady!" Dozla is wrenching his axe free from the gargoyle's skull.

"Well, that's...good. I guess." The pegasus knight seems confused. "But, uh, I really should - "

"Tana?" calls a voice. "Did you find someone? Who are you talking to?" Another woman runs in from the fog. She stops, blinks, and L'Arachel recognizes her - the young turquoise-haired woman from Port Kiris.

The woman stares at her. "You…L'Arachel!"

L'Arachel gives a cheerful wave. "Hello! So it's true! Blessings do come in threes!"

The woman seems to come to her senses, and shakes her head. She is wearing dangling ruby earrings, and they shimmer among the bright blue of her hair. "L'Arachel, this place is dangerous. You should find safe haven elsewhere." More people are entering the room now - more of the women's companions, L'Arachel assumes. The pegasus knight swoops away towards them.

"Oh, you needn't worry about us." L'Arachel waves an airy hand. "As you well know, my divine mission is to purge the land of these obscenities. I will show you the splendor that is L'Arachel in action!" She strikes a pose. "Bear witness!"

"If you insist," the woman concedes. "At least let us join forces for the time being."

"I am delighted to join with you!" says L'Arachel. She turns to her companion. "Dozla."

"Gwah ha ha!" says Dozla, fishing his axe out of the gargoyle's skull. "What is it, Lady L'Arachel?"

"We're going to join these good people and eradicate these unclean monstrosities," says L'Arachel, indicating the woman and her companions, many of whom are locked in combat with the monsters once more.

"Sounds fun!" Dozla rests his axe back in its usual spot on his shoulder. "What would you have me do?"

"Oh, just carry on in your normal manner: destroy, destroy, destroy. But do be sure to enjoy yourself," she adds, patting his shoulder.

"Gwah ha ha! I am your obedient servant!"

"As you always are, Dozla," says L'Arachel, satisfied. "Come now - "

Dozla winces, and staggers - L'Arachel raises her staff again, but the turquoise-haired woman rushes over to him.

"You've been poisoned, haven't you? Here - " The woman hands him a small bottle of antidote. "A lot of these monsters have poison on their blades."

"Thank you, milady!" Dozla takes the bottle, and downs it. His color improves almost immediately. "Ah, that's much better!"

"Oh, that's a relief - we are truly thankful," says L'Arachel. "Truly, milady, you are as kind as you are beautiful!"

The woman turns bright red. "B-beauti-"

There's a shout from one of the woman's companions, and she, L'Arachel, and Dozla all hurry back into the battle.

\---

"The battle is won," the turquoise-haired lady says to her assembled soldiers. "Thank you, one and all." She then turns to L'Arachel. "And...thank you, L'Arachel."

L'Arachel beams, dismounting Theia and giving her a pat. "Please, speak nothing of it. It is heaven's dictate that I come here to cleanse this charming place of monsters. What's important is - oh my! I just realized I have not yet had the honor of your name."

The woman looks shocked. "Oh, you're right. How strange…We've met so often now that I had assumed you already…Please forgive my lack of manners." The woman places a hand on her chest. "My name is Eirika."

 _Eirika_...Where has L'Arachel heard that name before?

Eirika's grumpy-looking bodyguard frowns. "Milady…"

"It's all right, Seth," says Eirika. "She's clearly not our enemy."

L'Arachel frowns, deep in thought. "Eirika…" It comes to her in a rush - the turquoise hair, the elegant armor, the guards, the army, the rapier. "Aha! So you must be Princess Eirika of Renais!" She curtsies. "It is simply an honor to meet you. And how strange that we should meet again in this place. You must be lost as well." L'Arachel shakes her head. "This continent is so confusing."

"Um, yes. Actually, we're not lost at all. You see…" Eirika takes a deep breath. "I am on my way to Jehanna to meet with Queen Ismaire, and then on to Rausten - to meet with Pontifex Mansel. I...I hope to form an alliance with them both in order to reclaim my fallen kingdom and stop the Grado Empire. Prince Innes and Princess Tana of Frelia are accompanying me, as well - you met Tana earlier, actually. We also think that we'll be able to put a stop to all the monsters if we stop Grado." Eirika smiles, rather sheepishly. "I realize this all seems a bit unbelievable, but...we intend to pass through to Jehanna via these mountains. My brother Ephraim is already fighting on the front lines. I hope to be able to gather the troops to reinforce him in Grado."

L'Arachel nods, frowning. "Is that so! Well, clearly, I must be allowed to accompany you."

"You want to travel with us?" Eirika shakes her head. "I appreciate your offer, but our journey is far too perilous. I do not wish to pull you into this madness."

"No, no, no." L'Arachel clasps Eirika's hands in both of her own; the latter looks rather shocked. "There can be no doubt that we were sent here to aid you. It is all part of the grand design. I, L'Arachel, shall play my role and fulfill my divine duties. This I swear!"

Eirika looks stunned at first, but then a small smile spreads across her face. It is quite lovely.

Seth clears his throat. "Are you sure this is wise, Princess?"

"Don't worry, Seth. Now, we must find Ewan, and Innes too. I'm hoping we can get out of these mountains soon." Eirika nods to L'Arachel and then to Dozla, and departs, Seth trailing after her.

L'Arachel nods sagely. "…Well, that's that, Dozla. You and I are now traveling with Princess Eirika and her companions, and therefore, we are members of her army."

"Gwah ha ha!" Dozla bellows. Several members of Eirika's army look around in terror; a few grab their weapons. "I understand. For you, Lady L'Arachel, I would do absolutely anything! I would run to the ends of this world and dive into a sea of evil!"

L'Arachel beams. "How very like you, my dear, dedicated Dozla! So noble! Come! We're off!"

"Gwah ha ha!"

\---

Eirika introduces L'Arachel to her army. The names and faces begin to blur together, but a few stand out - Prince Innes of Frelia (who glares and mumbles something about Eirika picking up every stray she finds,) Princess Tana of Frelia (who gives a cheerful wave,) Eirika's bodyguard, Seth (who gives a grave nod without any change of expression,) and a strange man named Joshua (who asks if she has money, and when she confirms to the affirmative, his eyes light up.)

"It is quite fortunate we happened upon Princess Eirika when we did! I am proven once again that the divines are smiling down upon me!" L'Arachel stage whispers to Dozla. Eirika's army had marched only a little further before encountering the guide she had been searching for, and then Eirika had declared that they would make camp for the night. L'Arachel beckoned Dozla into her tent, where the two are now seated, strategizing.

"Very true, milady! Very true! Er...forgive me, milady, but how is it fortunate, exactly?" Dozla scratches his beard.

"Ah, no trouble, Dozla. I shall elaborate. You see, Rausten's sacred duty is protecting Magvel from darkness, and I, as its princess, must steadfastly uphold this duty. Helping these people destroy the source of the monsters means protecting Magvel from darkness! What's more, Princess Eirika wishes to join forces with Rausten…and I am Rausten's very own princess! Our goals align perfectly! What could this be other than fate?"

"Ah ha! When you put it like that, milady, it very much does make sense!" Dozla nods rapidly. "You and Princess Eirika have much in common, leading heroic charges of justice like this!"

"Very true, Dozla! And together, I am certain she and I can accomplish much! Two beautiful princesses are better than one beautiful princess, of course!" L'Arachel gives a dreamy sigh. "Can you imagine the heroism the two of us will get up to?"

"I scarcely can, milady! I'm sure it will be a sight to behold!" says Dozla.

"Excuse me?" A young blonde woman clad in the garb of a cleric pokes her head into the tent. "Princess Eirika said we'd picked up another healer, and that I could find her here?"

"Oh, yes! That would be me!" L'Arachel leaps to her feet. "What can I help you with, Sister?"

"My name is Natasha. I thought I'd show you to the healers' tent? We've suffered some injuries in the battle, and we could use all the hands we could get."

"Of course! Healing is one of my most sacred callings! I shall speak with you later, Dozla. Lead the way, Sister Natasha!" L'Arachel follows Natasha back out of the tent.

The two begin the short walk to the healers' tent. Sister Natasha is quiet, but her eyes seem kind. "The tent is just this way, Lady L'Arachel." She opens the tent flap. It is very simple, with shelves and crates filled with supplies lining its canvas walls, and rows of mats for patients. A few soldiers lie on the mats, none seeming too terribly injured, luckily.

"This is Father Moulder of Frelia," says Natasha, indicating a large, mustached priest, who gives them a quick wave before returning to the poultice he is making. "He and I are the army's sole healers at the moment, though a few of our mages know some basic spells. But now that you are here, that will make things easier. With your horse, you will be able to perform battlefield medicine much more efficiently than Father Moulder or I can."

"For now, I shall do what I can to help here," says L'Arachel, drawing her staff. "Where would you care for me to start?"

"Can you change this man's bandages? And then take a look at Sir Forde here - his wound was infected, but we're keeping it in check. But, really, wherever you see something that needs doing, feel free to take action. There isn't really a hierarchy here."

"I will get to work, then!" L'Arachel busies herself with her assigned tasks, and Natasha goes to treat some patients on the other side of the room.

Time flies by when one is busy, and soon enough all the patients in the room are stable and comfortable. L'Arachel finishes cleaning up at about the same time Natasha is organizing an assortment of different vulneries into nearby crates. She keeps shooting quick glances at L'Arachel, then hurriedly looking away.

"Sister Natasha?" L'Arachel asks. "Is there something you would ask of me?"

"Oh...it's just...forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but you're nobility, aren't you?"

"I am indeed! I am, er…" L'Arachel struggles to remember her cover story; nobody has asked her enough about herself to force the need to use it, for whatever reason. "I am the daughter of a lord of Rausten. Why do you ask?"

"This may be impudent of me, but…" Natasha ducks her head. "I have never seen one born into nobility choose the path of the healer before, much less that of a battlefield medic. It is...unusual. At least in Grado, where I hail from, it was largely a task assigned to those born into lower stations, although it was possible to rise through the ranks, as my master once did."

"In Rausten, many nobles take the path of the priest. Why, even the Divine Emperor himself is trained in staves! ...Er, so I've heard. But it is true that few directly spend time healing the wounded themselves. Still, I have always found healing to be one of the noblest of arts, and quite rewarding. I have not had as much experience as an experienced cleric such as yourself, but I did do rounds in the castle infirmary from time to time. Rausten is often plagued by monsters, you see, and the soldiers can suffer grave injury defending our homeland."

Natasha's eyebrows shoot up. "The castle infirmary? You must be a high-ranking lady indeed."

"Um...yes, yes, I am! My father, he is, er, very close with Pontifex Mansel. So I am, er, often in the castle, and I lend my services as a troubadour to the royal soldiers. It is the least I can do, after all! It is nobles such as myself that the soldiers are defending!" L'Arachel hopes she isn't sweating.

"That is goodhearted of you, Lady L'Arachel. You seem to be a kind and compassionate person. Many would not give so freely of themselves, particularly those born with privilege."

"Your flattery is too much, Sister! Healing the wounded is an important part of my mission. True pride is protecting others, whether it be through slaying monsters or rehabilitating their victims. I intend to do both in my quest to bring light to our fair continent, and I wish to do so with my own hands. Perhaps you think it selfless, but I find it so enjoyable it is scarcely work at all."

Natasha smiles. "You give me hope for the future when you say such things. I look forward to working with you as healers-in-arms."

The tent flap opens, and the strange redheaded man pokes his head in. "Hey, Natasha. If you're finished up here, I was wondering if you wanted to stop by the mess hall together?"

Natasha smiles. "Yes, Joshua, I just completed my work. That would be lovely. It was nice to meet you, Lady L'Arachel." She gives a quick curtsey before following Joshua out of the tent.

L'Arachel departs the tent herself, musing over Sister Natasha's words. She'd never given much thought to her own mission being selfless. It was merely her divine calling, was it not? A sacred duty? Regardless, L'Arachel vows, she intends to see it through.

\---

The journey to Caer Pelyn (a village from which they can reach Jehanna, apparently? L'Arachel is a bit fuzzy on the details) is not much longer from there. But the mountain paths have only become still more dangerous, for horses and those on foot alike. Princess Tana and a few other Frelian pegasus knights swoop overhead as the others trudge along, and L'Arachel can't help a small twinge of jealousy.

The monsters find them, of course, and a treacherous battle follows. L'Arachel is certain she performs admirably, however.

"Princess Eirika," she manages, as the latter is wiping blood off her blade. "You do seem terribly fatigued."

"It's all right," Eirika says, although her face is extremely pale. "You needn't worry about me, I - I shall be fine. Saleh says we are quite close to Caer Pelyn. I will rest there."

"I understand," says L'Arachel. "But perhaps it would be easier on you if you rode the rest of the way? You could take my horse. I don't mind walking."

"Oh, I couldn't. Thank you, L'Arachel, but I don't want you to put yourself out on my behalf. I'll manage just fine the rest of the way."

"Well, how about we both ride, then? Theia's saddle has room enough for two, I believe! Truthfully, I've never tried. But all good things require experimentation, right?" L'Arachel extends a hand to Eirika. "Come, come. It is rude to refuse a lady."

"I...I suppose that would be alright." Eirika manages a tremulous smile. "If you really don't mind…" She places her hand in L'Arachel's.

L'Arachel tries to ignore the burst of warmth in her hand when they touch. "I insist, Princess Eirika! It isn't any trouble at all!" She helps Eirika into the saddle behind her. "You may hold onto the saddle, or my noble self if you so wish."

Eirika seems hesitant, at first, but slowly wraps her arms around L'Arachel's waist. "I...thank you. Is this all right?"

"Perfectly, yes," L'Arachel manages, trying to hide that her voice is pitched a bit higher than normal. "Away we go, then!" She urges Theia into a walk, keeping pace with the rest of the army.

They ride in silence for several minutes, the only sounds the chatter of the army around them (L'Arachel hears Dozla's distinctive laugh somewhere nearby) and the clopping of hooves. Eirika is the one who speaks first.

"Thank you, again, L'Arachel. I really do appreciate this. It...it is a bit of a relief, truth be told. I...I was rather tired."

"I am happy to be of service! Besides, now you can enjoy the honor of being the first to share a mount with Prin - Lady L'Arachel herself! None have ever experienced it before." L'Arachel twists her neck to smile at Eirika, but it fades when she sees the latter gazing off into the distance, a somewhat heavy look on her face. "Princess Eirika? Are you all right?"

"I...I am. Sorry. I was just...recalling something. You see...Seth has offered for me to ride with him, as well."

"Seth? Your bodyguard...the grumpy-faced one?"

Eirika gives a small, weak chuckle, and L'Arachel is relieved that she has managed to make her laugh at all. "Yes...I suppose he is a bit surly-looking. But he has offered his saddle many times, and I...I cannot accept. You see, the last time I rode in the saddle with Seth...we were fleeing Renais. I didn't want to leave, but...He pulled me into the saddle and fled, and I watched my father and country disappear behind me...and now, my father is dead, my country fallen, and my home destroyed."

"I...I'm terribly sorry."

"It's all right. I don't...I don't fault Seth for it, or anything. But I...I cannot bear to ride with him. The very thought of it turns my stomach."

"That is understandable," says L'Arachel. "It is hardly your fault, either."

"I haven't told anyone any of that," Eirika murmurs. Her voice is getting quieter. "Not even Ephraim, or Tana...I barely know you, and yet...you're easy to talk to, L'Arachel…it feels almost as if I could...tell you...anything..."

"Princess Eirika?"

There is no response. L'Arachel jerks her head backwards in alarm, but the princess is merely asleep, slumped against L'Arachel's back. L'Arachel checks to ensure Eirika is secure in the saddle, and then carefully turns back.

There is a small, gentle warmth in the pit of her chest.

\---

Eirika awakens when they reach Caer Pelyn. She seems rather embarrassed, and L'Arachel wonders if she recalls their conversation at all, but decides not to pry. The guide brings Eirika, Seth, and Prince Innes into a house to meet with the Elder of Caer Pelyn, and after some hesitation, L'Arachel follows. After all, she has not revealed herself, and perhaps she has no right to sit in on such meetings...but Eirika doesn't seem to mind.

They learn the story of the Great Dragon, who, according to the Elder, granted the Five Heroes the strength to seal away the Demon King, as well as learning that the Great Dragon is currently with Ephraim in Grado. Eirika's guide, Saleh, agrees to accompany them to Jehanna in order to meet up with the Great Dragon in Grado. L'Arachel largely keeps quiet during the meeting - knowledge of the Sacred Stones would likely give her away, after all! Her anonymity seems to be growing increasingly fragile, but she must try to maintain it!

(And, if she is truthful, a part of her is still thinking about the feel of Eirika asleep against her, and Eirika saying that she felt she could tell L'Arachel anything…but now is hardly the time for such things. Eirika has much on her plate, after all.)

\---

At the village elder's insistence, they spend the night in Caer Pelyn before setting out again the next morning. Eirika is granted residence in the elder's own house, which brings L'Arachel some relief.

"Are you well enough, Eirika?" says L'Arachel the next morning, approaching the other princess, who has just bid farewell to the elder as they begin their departure. The rest of the army is finishing up getting horses loaded, shouts of excitement and greeting ringing through the early morning air.

"I feel much better now, L'Arachel," says Eirika, turning to face her. Indeed, the color has returned to her face, her eyes are clearer, and her posture is stronger. "The elder's hospitality and concoctions helped me sleep, and a good night's rest has done me wonders. Thank you for your concern."

"That is a relief!" says L'Arachel brightly. "It is heartbreaking to see such beauty as yours diminished by exhaustion. You do look much healthier. I am glad!"

"T-thank you, L'Arachel," says Eirika, ducking her eyes to the ground. "I...it is very kind of you to worry so, and I must thank you again for lending me use of your mount yesterday."

"I would do it again in a heartbeat!" L'Arachel smiles. "Shall we, then?" She motions towards where the army stands, and Eirika nods. The two fall into step as they walk to rejoin the others.

"I was just saying to the elder…" says Eirika, breaking the silence. "It's...a bit strange, but...she mentioned the date, and...my birthday was yesterday."

"Why, many happy returns, Princess Eirika!" says L'Arachel brightly. "We should celebrate!"

"No need for any of that," says Eirika. She is smiling, but her eyes look distant again. "It's a war, after all."

"As I think on it…" L'Arachel ponders. "I suppose my own birthday was a few months back, as well. I did not even notice it! Travel does make one forget certain things, does it not? And it's the first time my uncle has not thrown me a surprise party, since I was not there. You know, I would have thought I'd be terribly upset about my birthday going forgotten, but now I can't say I am concerned about it. So much has happened, a birthday party seems like a silly thing to dwell on."

"I felt much the same way. Really, it's just...eighteen years, and this is our first birthday where Ephraim and I have been apart." Eirika is fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist, fastened over her glove. "I don't mind a lack of festivities, but not having him here feels terribly wrong."

"Pray tell me," asks L'Arachel, "but what is that bracelet? A gift from your brother?"

"Oh, this. It was from our father, actually, several years ago." Eirika holds up her wrist. The bracelet is heavy and golden, not unlike a gauntlet, intricately carved and set with a small blue stone. "Ephraim has the matching one. It...it is silly, but when I touch it, I feel as though I am closer to him. For so many years, we were always together, and now...now I do not even know if he is safe." Eirika curls her hand around the bracelet.

"I have never met your brother, but if he has half of your strength and courage, I am certain he is well, Princess Eirika," says L'Arachel.

"He...he is very strong, and very courageous," says Eirika. "Far...far moreso than I."

"I doubt that, milady - I think you aren't giving yourself enough credit! But if things are as you say, then there is no doubt he is well. You will see him again, rest assured," says L'Arachel with a smile. "The gods tell me it is so!"

"That is a comfort, L'Arachel." Eirika smiles. "Thank you. And, it might be very late, but happy birthday to you, as well. I hope you, too, can be with your loved ones again soon."

"Are you two finally here?" Innes calls as he storms over to them. "About time. Saleh's ready and everyone's packed, let's get going."

"Right," says Eirika. "Let us be off, then. To Jehanna!"

\---

When they enter Jehanna, things begin to change.

Jehanna is at war, much like Renais and Frelia. Eirika's army is making plans to decide their next move, with Grado soldiers visible on the horizon, blocking the route to Jehanna Hall and Queen Ismaire. Innes, Tana, and Eirika are speaking with a recently-arrived Frelian pegasus knight, apparently some kind of messenger. Meanwhile, the rest of the army prepares for battle - whatever outcome they face, it is likely that it will not be a peaceful one.

L'Arachel pulls herself away from Joshua, who has been teaching her a very fascinating game involving tossing coins. She is walking over to join Eirika and offer her vast wisdom when she spies a flash of green out of the corner of her eye - a deep, rich green, not the same color as the dried-out Jehanna grass. The green belongs to the uniform of a soldier standing in the distance. A _Rausten_ soldier.

The soldier sees L'Arachel a moment after she sees him, and opens his mouth. L'Arachel quickly brings a finger to her own lips and he quiets, but makes a quick beckoning motion. L'Arachel looks (very subtly) back and forth - Eirika and the others seem engrossed by the Frelian messenger, and nobody else is looking her way, Joshua having moved on to an apparently engrossing conversation with Sister Natasha - so she rushes over to where the soldier stands, and tugs him into a huddle behind a nearby bush.

"What are you doing here, soldier?" L'Arachel whispers. "Did Uncle send you?"

"Yes - I can't believe I've found you, Princess," the man stammers out. "I wasn't expecting you to be here - I had heard rumors that Princess Eirika's army was here, and intended to meet with her. But to find our own princess here! I am glad to see you are safe, Your Highness."

"Yes, yes. Fret not, sir. I have decided to ally myself with Princess Eirika's army. She is a kind soul, and intends to protect Magvel."

"That's perfect," says the soldier. "Pontifex Mansel is formally allying with Jehanna against Grado. I am of the Rausten Knights, 2nd battalion - our forces approach even now from the north to reinforce Jehanna's army. They will be here very soon. I was sent ahead to bring a message to Princess Eirika."

"I will inform her at once, while being careful to maintain my undercover persona, of course."

"B-but...forgive my impudence, but...aren't you going to come back to Rausten, Princess? Your uncle…"

"Has things well in hand, as I understand it. No, I will remain with Princess Eirika's army. I can do more good here than I can back in Rausten, and it is important to maintain strong allyship with Renais and Frelia, is it not? This is where I belong for the time being."

"Oh...well, I suppose that's all right, Your Highness, but…"

"Tell Uncle I am perfectly fine, and intend to see him in Rausten once Princess Eirika's army arrives there. That is an order, sir."

"Very well, then. I will have a messenger inform Pontifex Mansel. A-and there's one more thing, Princess," the soldier adds. "It seems Frelia's Sacred Stone was destroyed by the Grado Army, and it is possible Renais and Grado's Stones have been destroyed likewise. Based on the enemy's movements...His Holiness believes that Grado is likely after Jehanna's Sacred Stone, intending to destroy it as they did Frelia's."

"That is a logical conclusion. Uncle is so very clever to think of it!" L'Arachel nods sagely. "Well, I will not allow this to happen! We have already lost at least one Sacred Stone - it would be terrible if we were to lose another! Well, that settles it. Tell your commander that Princess Eirika's army is moving to strike against Grado. We will hold out until your men make it here. Go, then! May justice ride with you!"

"Er...yes, and you, Princess L'Arachel." The man salutes, then mounts his horse and kicks its sides, riding off in a cloud of dust.

L'Arachel pokes her head out from behind the bush. None seems to have noticed her absence, so she runs to join Eirika, who is walking away from the retreating messenger and looking grim.

"Ah, Eirika. Is it time to go already?"

"L'Arachel…" Eirika turns to face her. "We're going to break through the Grado lines and join the army of Jehanna. You should keep to the rear where it's safe…"

L'Arachel shakes her head. "No, I will stay with you. Confronting evil boldly is the sworn duty of any ally of justice. And it may be that Grado's goal is the Stone of Jehanna…I cannot stand by and let it be destroyed."

Eirika's brow furrows. "L'Arachel? Where did you come by such information?"

"Hm? That…uh, well…" L'Arachel is forced to think quickly in order to conceal her identity. "The…wind whispered to me in the night."

A deep crease is forming between Eirika's eyes. "The wind? Whispered to you?"

"Yes, that's right," L'Arachel decides to continue this tactic. "And according to that gentle breeze, there are knights riding this way from Rausten even as we speak. If we can but hold out until they arrive, the battle will surely be ours. Come, Eirika. Let us be on our way."

She rushes away, cheeks slightly pink. Eirika says something else, but she doesn't quite hear it.

Dozla pops up at her elbow. "Gwa ha ha! You can talk to the wind, Lady L'Arachel? You truly are full of unexpected talents! Then again, maybe they are expected after all, considering your divine gifts! Ga ha!"

"Yes, yes, Dozla," L'Arachel replies. "We must make haste. The battle awaits!"

\---

Eirika's army is always amazing to watch. It's not just that they're strong - it's that they work well together, a seamless single unit. Eirika calls commands and orders to Princess Tana and the other fliers, who convey them to the rest of the army, and they are cleanly obeyed. And then there is the princess herself, who moves so quickly few can hope to touch her before her blade is in their throat - she whirls through the battlefield, shouting orders to her allies if needed, concentrating with a fierce expression if not. It is quite a sight to behold, if one is not already busy beholding L'Arachel's own exploits.

It is not an easy battle, however, and another wave of reinforcements from Carcino has left the army in a perilous position.

"Take this man to the healers' tent!" Eirika shouts to a green-haired pegasus knight, who swoops down to scoop up a groaning, bloodied figure. "How many have we lost, Seth?"

"No fatal injuries reported yet, milady, but several of ours have had to retreat," her guard replies. "Princess Eirika, perhaps it is best if - "

"The Rausten Knights are coming," says L'Arachel. "I promise! Just a bit more…"

"Why should we even believe you?" Prince Innes barks back, firing an arrow at an incoming wyvern knight. "Who even are you?"

L'Arachel sniffs. "Well...I simply have many divine powers, and…"

Eirika swipes (somebody else's) blood off her face, breathing hard. "It's been a few hours - if we can just hold out a little longer - "

A surly-looking wyvern knight, whom Eirika had apparently convinced to defect from the other side (L'Arachel is foggy on the details) suddenly appears above them. "Princess Eirika! To the north - look!"

Eirika turns, and as she does, a shout rings out from the distance. "Forward the lances! _Show them the might of Rausten!_ "

A green-clad army is approaching, scattering Grado's men in its wake. Eirika cries out happily. "The Knights of Rausten! Just as L'Arachel said…Reinforcements have arrived in Jehanna!"

L'Arachel lets out a sigh of relief. "What I'd like to know is what took them so long! However, it seems that all has worked out in the end."

The army's commander comes riding up to L'Arachel, bowing his head. "Princess! Knights of Rausten, 2nd battalion, reporting for duty!"

L'Arachel nods. "Well done. You may lift your eyes."

"Princess?" Eirika gapes. "L'Arachel, you're a - "

"What?" L'Arachel sputters. "Oh, you mean…Don't be silly. This is nothing. Please don't concern yourself."

Dozla chuckles. "I do believe, milady, that your disguise has been penetrated."

L'Arachel sighs. "Oh…I suppose there's naught to be done about it now. Very well, Eirika. You've found me out! The beauteous wanderer who's been your boon companion is none other then…" L'Arachel twirls her staff, the one her uncle had given her so long ago, and poses, "...the jewel of the theocracy of Rausten, Princess L'Arachel herself! I was acting under divine order to strike down evil in this land."

"…Is that so?" says Eirika. "But why did you…”

"The truth is…The princess was enflamed by the words of the court troubadour, Saaga…" The commander says. "She forced us to allow her to journey forth anonymously on a quest for justice." (Now that L'Arachel thinks about it, she supposes he was one of the men who saw her off on her journey…)

"I-I see…" says Eirika.

"Princess." The commander beckons her over. "This is from Pontifex Mansel. He bade me give it to you, if you chose not to return to Rausten." He presents her with a purse.

L'Arachel opens it. "What's this? War funds? Oh, what a grand uncle. He's just so thoughtful." She turns back to Eirika. "Princess Eirika of Renais. Rausten will not yield to Grado. Together, let us defeat the empire in the name of righteousness!"

Seth comes riding up to them (truthfully, L'Arachel had not noticed him leaving.) "Princess Eirika. Princes Innes. I've received word from the front. The palace of Jehanna was attacked by Grado forces and has surrendered."

Innes stares. "What? How did that…"

"And the queen? Is she safe?" asks Eirika.

Seth bows his head. "That remains unknown."

"She may yet live," says Innes. "We must hurry."

"The palace has already been occupied by imperial troops," says Seth. His voice is heavy. "The Grado army is being led by Lyon, the imperial prince."

Eirika staggers as if hit by a physical blow. "Lyon!?"

"What it is, Eirika?" L'Arachel asks with alarm.

"It's nothing…" Eirika says softly, and then whispers something else that L'Arachel cannot quite hear. She then seems to shake herself and lift her head. "R-regardless, we ought to head to the palace. As Innes said, Queen Ismaire might well be alive, and so we must hurry."

"If your army will be charging the palace, then the Rausten Knights will strive to make the way as clear for you as possible, Princess Eirika," says the commander. "The only challenge left will be entering the palace itself."

"Thank you, sir," says Eirika. "My men will see to our injured, and recover from this battle. We will leave as soon as we are capable of it. Give word to the others, Seth, Innes."

Both men nod and head off to speak with the troops. The Rausten commander bows once more to Eirika and to L'Arachel before returning to his own men.

Eirika turns to L'Arachel. "Thank you for alerting your troops."

L'Arachel waves her hand. "There isn't any need for thanks! Truthfully, all I did is inform you that they were coming. I haven't done much. I...I wished to thank you, actually."

"Me?" Eirika looks surprised. "What for?"

"For believing my words. I gave you no evidence to do so, and yet...you believed in me still. For that, I thank you." L'Arachel bows her head.

"I…" Eirika's face softens.

"I suppose it had to do with my general beauty and charm!" L'Arachel says perkily, her head popping back up. "Why, I can't say I blame you. Who wouldn't trust one with such an air of heroism and grandeur as I?"

Eirika's expression shifts again. "Er…"

"Gwah ha ha!" Dozla booms, making both princesses jump (L'Arachel had forgotten he was there.)

Eirika seems to shake herself. "I need to check on our troops. Take care of yourself, L'Arachel."

"You as well, Eirika! I must be off to the healers', then!" L'Arachel calls after her retreating back.

\---

The Jehanna desert is like no place L'Arachel has ever been before. The heat she can bear, but the sands are dreadful - every step takes twice the effort, and it's even worse for the horses, who struggle along through the ankle-deep earth as the party trudges towards Jehanna Hall. It is located in the very heart of the desert, meaning several days' worth of travel are necessary to arrive there. Still, dullness aside, L'Arachel keeps her spirits up. It's tiresome, certainly, but it is the hardships of the world that will shape them into true warriors and heroes, and herself into a queen! So she reassures herself, anyway.

It is late afternoon, the sun starting to descend down over the horizon, and the army has been marching all day. Even Dozla hasn't laughed in nearly an hour. Theia grumbles with displeasure and L'Arachel leans down to soothe her. "There, there. We'll be making camp soon, and then we can rest." She smoothes down her horse's sand-flecked mane.

"Jehanna Desert's tough to get through, isn't it, Lady L'Arachel?" Dozla sighs. "My breastplate's practically sloshing, I've been sweating so much!"

"It has gotten rather tiring, I will admit," L'Arachel sighs. "Regardless, we needn't suffer much longer. It's not too much further to Jehanna Hall."

"Just two more days if we make good time," comes a voice from beside her, and L'Arachel startles, whipping around. Joshua tips his hat at her.

"It's very rude to sneak up on a lady!" L'Arachel scolds him.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to sneak. Pretty easy to overtake a horse in sand." Joshua shrugs a shoulder. "But anyway, you're right. We're pretty close to the castle."

"You seem knowledgeable about the area," says L'Arachel. "Have you been to Jehanna before?"

"Uh, I'm from Jehanna." Joshua raises his eyebrows at her (er, eyebrow - L'Arachel isn't certain if he even has an eye under that hat.) "Wasn't the hair kind of a giveaway?"

"Well, there are redheads from elsewhere in Magvel. I didn't wish to make assumptions," says L'Arachel airily.

"'Course not."

"But regardless, I have no intention of playing more of your admittedly intriguing gambling games while we are marching. That would be downright irresponsible!" L'Arachel narrows her eyes at him.

"I wasn't going to suggest that!" says Joshua hastily. "Just making conversation! Jeez."

L'Arachel straightens, looking off at the trail ahead of them. "Regardless, if you are Jehannan...have you ever been to the Hall before? I am quite curious, and have never been myself."

"Gar ha ha!" Dozla breaks through the stuffy air. "That's our Princess L'Arachel, always eager to learn!"

"Nah, never been," says Joshua. "I'm just a mercenary, after all. Why would I ever set foot somewhere like that?"

"Simply curious, since you knew of its location." L'Arachel shrugs. "And as Dozla says, I am always eager to learn about the other countries of our great continent. As crown princess of Rausten, I consider it my duty."

"Princess's duty, huh…" Joshua is absently flipping and fiddling with a bronze coin in one hand as he walks.

"I am to rule the people someday," says L'Arachel. "I have many duties to ensure I am adequately prepared for the task when I take it up."

"Sounds like a lot of responsibility, and one you don't really have to do. I'd have thought someone as carefree as you would've cut and run, or at least pushed the whole thing off on somebody else."

"I would never do such a thing!" L'Arachel glares at him. "That would be an affront to my noble ancestors, and even moreso, an affront to my own principles! Why do you even suggest this?"

"I was 'simply curious,'" says Joshua. His coin flips again, glinting in the dying desert sun. "Most of the nobles I've met just dump all the work on the common folk who can't say no. You don't exactly come across as the conscientious type, but you say you'd never do that. It's not what I was expecting."

"Yes, there are nobles who misuse their status and station, and neglect their duties. But I refuse to be one of them." L'Arachel shakes her head. "I pride myself on taking action with my own hands, not hiding behind my money and power. If I am to be queen, I intend to earn my queendom."

"You want to become worthy of being queen, huh?"

"Yes, precisely. I went forth on this journey as a step towards achieving that. It has only been one of many steps, of course - but I refuse to run from my duties. I face them head on - and march ever towards them, as I do now. One imperative duty of the Divine Empress is to defend her homeland and Magvel as a whole, and I do so now, in Princess Eirika's army. This journey hasn't been what I expected, but I have learned much from it - about the people of Magvel, my fellow princes and princesses, the ways of war, and many more things besides. I will likely learn even more in the months to come, and I eagerly look forward to it! Learning is my duty as the future Empress of Rausten!"

"Huh…" Joshua's head is tilted towards the sky. He looks thoughtful. "You're wiser than you look, Princess L'Arachel."

"So even my undeniably wise demeanor belies how truly learned I am? I will accept the compliment."

"Uh, I think you lost me - "

"Gwa ha ha!" Dozla cuts through the conversation. "You've both lost _me_ a long way back!"

"Everyone!" Eirika calls from the front of the party, and they turn to face her. "We'll be making camp here for tonight. If we keep our pace, we'll be at Jehanna Hall the day after tomorrow. Excellent work, everyone! Just a bit longer!"

There's a chorus of assent from the army as everyone begins dismounting and setting up camp - a flurry of activity that L'Arachel has grown quite used to over the past weeks. Joshua slips away in the chaos.

\---

After the night's meal, L'Arachel takes up her light tome. She had only just begun learning light magic when she left Rausten, but she's been practicing earnestly once more since joining Eirika's army. After all, a healer is useful, but a healer with offensive capabilities is more useful still!

Her target is an unfortunate cactus. L'Arachel takes a deep breath, beginner-level tome open in one hand, and focuses on the cactus. Light bursts from her extended palm on cue, but the blast strikes the ground slightly to the left of her target. Her second shot lands, though, burning a clean hole through the cactus's top, and L'Arachel gives a satisfied nod before readying for another attempt.

"That was quite impressive, L'Arachel."

"Ah, Princess Eirika!" L'Arachel waves. "I am trying to become more proficient with tomes, as you can see! I hope to be able to utilize them if we are forced into combat at Jehanna Hall."

"It seems likely we will be forced into combat, unfortunately," says Eirika, coming to stand beside L'Arachel. "Still, I would be happy to have another mage alongside us, and it would give me some relief if one of my healers was more able to defend herself. If you're able to use it that well, then I see no reason you shouldn't bring your tome to the next battle."

L'Arachel beams. "I will, then!"

"Now…" Eirika lifts a wooden practice sword. "I came out here for a similar purpose as you, actually. Would you care to spar? I have some practice tomes here - all they do is shoot harmless lights, no damage."

"Very well!" says L'Arachel, taking the practice light tome and putting away her real one. "I have, er, never really sparred with a melee user before, so...what am I to do, exactly?"

"We'll stand a few paces apart, and I'll try to dodge your magic and get in close to you, while you try to keep me away," Eirika explains, walking to stand a few feet away from L'Arachel. "You'll try to hit me in a vital area, and I'll try to put you in a position where you'd be killed in a real battle. I won't actually hit you, though. Wooden swords can still hurt."

"I appreciate the consideration," L'Arachel says, flipping the tome open and looking over it.

Eirika smiles. "I have no intention of causing harm to my own soldiers. Now, then, on the count of three? One...two...three!"

L'Arachel fires the moment Eirika finishes her countdown, but Eirika leaps aside. L'Arachel keeps the barrage up, but Eirika swerves between the light beams, almost easily, like a sort of dance. She rolls under another shot, running in a circle around L'Arachel, who tries to keep from leaving herself open as she fires again and again.

One light beam hits Eirika's left arm, but it doesn't slow her down at all as she keeps running. L'Arachel notices too late that the circle Eirika is running is closing in, Eirika spiraling closer and closer to L'Arachel, and then Eirika is right in front of her, the tip of her wooden blade held directly at L'Arachel's throat.

"Ah," says L'Arachel. "It's your win, I believe."

Eirika lowers the sword. "You did well, though. You did manage to hit me - in a real fight, I would have been thrown off balance, and you might well have had me."

"Did I? Truthfully, I was only trying to keep you from having a moment to strike back, and it was rather unsuccessful." L'Arachel shakes her head. "I suppose I am rambling a bit, aren't I? Regardless - you were incredibly fast. Even hitting you once was extremely difficult."

"Thank you," says Eirika. "My brother always said my speed was my greatest strength whenever we sparred. I am not as physically strong as Ephrai...as some people, but I can use my speed to gain the upper hand over them. They commonly practice such a sword style here in Jehanna, I've heard."

"Speed and wit are quite strengths indeed! I can't say I know much about swordplay myself - most of the royal family of Rausten exclusively practices magic. My mother was said to be the exception - she was so eager to learn the blade that her father relented and allowed her to take it up. I myself try to practice self-defense in many forms! Even if I do not utilize such weapons, it is of dire importance that I learn to protect myself." L'Arachel lifts the practice tome. "So...shall we go again? I wish to learn from you, so that I can better aid in battle."

"Of course," says Eirika, walking away and standing ready. "I'll count down…"

By the time the sky is too dark to continue, L'Arachel has two wins and Eirika four - but L'Arachel doesn't resent it. She's learned a good bit, and that, after all, is valuable. Besides, it was quite enjoyable spending time with Eirika, and that can be considered valuable too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited to fix a timeline issue! Oh, Fire Emblem, you and your excessively convoluted plots...


	5. Scorched Sand

Jehanna Hall looms in the distance, a cavernous stone building designed to withstand the pressures of the desert. L'Arachel gazes up at it, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. "My, Dozla! Have you ever seen such a thing?"

"I have, actually, Princess! I accompanied your lady mother and your lord father here once, back when I was a part of their guard. That must have been...ah, at least twenty years ago," Dozla says. "Ah, simpler times. My beard was much shorter then!"

"Oh, that is fascinating, Dozla! Do tell me, what is it like within?"

"Err…" Dozla scratches his head. "It's...a bit of a maze, to tell you truthfully, Princess. I got lost six times! One time I accidentally ended up in the King and Queen's chambers, as a matter of fact! Luckily, they were good sports about it, and found the whole thing quite humorous, as a matter of fact. Her Highness Princess Madelaine laughed and laughed...I was happy to have brought them all cheer!"

"That does sound like you, Dozla! Navigation is a tricky thing, isn't it? It is nice to be able to rely on Princess Eirika for that nowadays. Speaking of her, we should really ride ahead to join her, shouldn't we?" L'Arachel nudges Theia ahead, and they trudge through the desert sands to where Eirika stands with a handful of her men.

They arrive just in time to hear Seth's voice. "Princess Eirika? Is there something wrong?"

Eirika shakes her head quickly, as if coming back from a trance. "N-no. It's nothing."

L'Arachel doesn't quite believe her, and based off the frown on his face, neither does Seth, but he continues his report. "Jehanna Hall has been completely occupied by Grado soldiers. I'm sorry to report that Queen Ismaire is already…"

Prince Innes interrupts (as he so often does.) "And the one giving orders to the troops in the palace is Crown Prince Lyon?"

"What is there to give us pause?" says L'Arachel, making several of the others jump. "Should we not storm the palace and retake it by strength of arms?"

Innes gives her a sour look. "Frelia's spy network reports that Prince Lyon is an initiate of dark magic. If this is true, even approaching him will be a serious challenge. I'd heard the prince dislikes violence. However, it could all have been a ruse."

Eirika looks down at her boots.

"Still, if we don't retake the palace, we've no hope of defeating Grado," Innes continues. "We must rescue the queen, no matter the cost…"

"I understand," says Eirika, lifting her head. Her face is set and determined. "Let's go! Everyone," and she turns back to address the crowd, "this will be a perilous battle. The interior of Jehanna Hall is mazelike to ward off potential assassins, and it will be a long journey to the throne room. But we have a plan, and we have each other. Together, we can end the siege, and free Jehanna. As one, then!" Eirika raises her blade to the air.

A cheer rises up from the army, and they march.

\---

As both Dozla and Eirika said, the interior of Jehanna Hall is a labyrinth of long, twisting halls made of yellow stone. They all look rather the same to L'Arachel, and indeed, the army is forced to resort to trial and error as they progress onwards. L'Arachel rides from battalion to battalion, healing those she can and sending those she cannot back to the healers' tent for more intensive treatment (after all, staves can only do so much.)

"There you go, then," says L'Arachel, lifting her staff from Joshua's arm. "Good as new!"

"Right...Thanks, Princess," the myrmidon mumbles. L'Arachel narrows her eyes at him. He is very pale, and looks almost as though he is about to faint.

"Hold, then," she says. "Did I miss an injury? Whatever is that sickly look for?"

"No injuries. I just...I'm wary of you forcing me to gamble with you again," he says, standing up straighter and holding his sword defensively. "After all, you've nearly bankrupted me. So of course the sight of you would make me ill."

"Are you still prattling on about yesterday? I have decided to release you of any debt you cannot pay. Consider yourself fortunate that I believe you to have learned your lesson without need for further punishment. Now, chin up! This is a battlefield."

"You're right…" Joshua mutters, but he is looking past her. "This is a battlefield. Just another battlefield. Well, I'm supposed to go support Gerik's men, so…" And he scurries off.

"He really is a distinctly strange person," says L'Arachel, to nobody in particular (Dozla is on the front lines with the other warriors and berserkers.) She continues her route along the hallway.

L'Arachel spies Eirika fighting ahead of her. Eirika's shoulder is bleeding. L'Arachel rides up alongside her, casting a healing spell. "Good day to you, Princess. What a funny thing that we should meet here! It is providence, I tell you!"

Eirika whips around to look at her, even as her wound is closing. "Thank you for the healing, but...L'Arachel, it is not providence. It is not even a coincidence. We agreed to meet here when we planned out our battle strategy." When L'Arachel simply stares at her, puzzled, Eirika's face contorts. "Wait... Don't tell me that you don't remember that!"

"We planned this?" L'Arachel tilts her head in surprise. "I suppose I simply don't usually worry about such trifling details. And here we are, so I suppose that our plan must be working."

Eirika sighs. "I suppose you're right."

L'Arachel fires a blast of light at an approaching enemy (Eirika had several spare tomes in the army's convoy, and L'Arachel is beginning to get quite good with them!) "Still, divine providence or not, isn't it strange and wonderful? A beautiful princess traveling with such a ragged bunch as this…" She raises an eyebrow in accusation. "You could have told me much sooner, you know!"

Eirika slashes the staggering enemy with her blade, and he falls. "My apologies. Necessity demanded that I conceal my identity at the time."

L'Arachel immediately feels a bit guilty about the tone in Eirika's voice. "Oh, it is no longer any worry. To be honest, I believe I had figured out your ruse from the very moment we met. I said to myself, 'This lovely woman could only be of my own superior breeding.'" She winks. "After all, you could never truly fool a woman with my keen mind."

"My. How...impressive," Eirika responds.

L'Arachel continues. "There is something about nobility that simply cannot be hidden from its kin! Why, Eirika, certainly you must have felt the same thing upon seeing me? You surely saw a refinement and grace of carriage surpassing that of common folk?"

"Err...aheh...yes, why...the very first time I met you, I could see that you…" Eirika swallows. "You were very far from common."

"Exactly. Far from common. I could not have put it better myself." L'Arachel shakes her head. "It's simply impossible to travel incognito these days. Ah well, it is all for the best. An alliance between the princess of Renais and the princess of Rausten! I couldn't have dreamed up a better situation!"

Eirika smiles a little as she cuts down another foe. They continue down the twisting stone hallway. "You've left out Tana...She wouldn't be happy."

"Ah yes, of course! An alliance between three separate, lovely princesses of Magvel! Why, what forces could possibly stop us now?" L'Arachel sighs wistfully. "If only Jehanna and Grado had princesses to join with us…Do you know if Queen Ismaire has any nieces or cousins?"

"I can't say that I do," says Eirika, who is still smiling.

"Well, once we complete this maze and rescue her, I will be certain to ask! Why, it would be lovely to start some sort of correspondence club...we could hold tea parties, even!" L'Arachel shoots down a few more foes. "I've never had many close comrades...other than Dozla, of course, but it would be nice to know a few more beautiful young ladies to spend time with."

"Right. Of course, L'Arachel." A crash resounds from behind the doorway to their right, and Eirika whips around. "What was that?"

"I shall investigate!" L'Arachel declares, and urges her mount into the room. It is some kind of treasure chamber, lined with chests, and largely deserted, except for a scrawny man with a messy brown ponytail.

L'Arachel points in accusation. "Aha! So this is where you've wandered off to, Rennac!"

Rennac jumps about a foot in the air. "Princess L'Arachel? Uh-oh, um…"

"Come with me," L'Arachel calls.

"Wait… hold on now," says Rennac, hastily stowing whatever he was holding inside his bag. "Go with you where?"

"L'Arachel, please don't run off - oh," says Eirika, rushing in beside her. "Isn't that the man who was traveling with you earlier? Regardless, we need to keep moving. Our time is short..."

"You are quite correct, Eirika. Rennac and I will be along shortly," says L'Arachel. Eirika nods and slips back out of the room.

Rennac continues rambling. "Look, sorry, but I've been hired by the Grado Empire, and…Hello! I'm talking to you!"

"Rennac, whatever is the matter? I promise to listen to your story later, but now, we must be going!" L'Arachel motions to him.

Rennac backs away from her, shaking his head. "No, I'm no servant, like that kook Dozla. I'm a mercenary. You have no right to drag me across creation without any pay whatsoever!"

"Is this about wages? I believe you've received ample compensation."

" _Ample?!_ " Rennac throws his hands in the air. "Do you even know what that word means? You're the princess of Rausten! I thought working for you would pay well. Yet your purse strings are knotted tight, and I've almost been killed so many - "

L'Arachel leans down and places a hand on his shoulder. "The joy that comes from doing good is not something that can be purchased. There. All better? Let's go." She turns back to the doorway to follow Eirika.

Rennac keeps talking, but L'Arachel ignores it. They have a job to do, after all. "We must hurry, Rennac."

Rennac sighs. "Right, right. I'm coming…" He slumps after her.

"Eirika!" L'Arachel crows proudly, waving down the princess. "I have located Rennac! I am certain he will be most useful to you."

"That's...that's good, L'Arachel." Eirika seems rather bemused. "But where has he been?"

Rennac opens his mouth, but L'Arachel cuts him off. "He was most likely lost or some such. Without my divine guidance, who knows where he has gotten off to? Now, Rennac, go be a dear and get those doors open for us, would you?"

Rennac gives her a dirty look. Eirika speaks up. "It would be most appreciated, sir. We have a lockpicker among us, but he has run out of tools, and there are many doors still sealed in this palace. If you could unlock them?"

"Fine, fine. I don't need tools or anything. Just point me where to go," Rennac grumbles.

"Thank you. Please, Seth, escort this man, would you?" Eirika says aside to the general lurking behind her, who nods and leads Rennac away.

"He does come in handy, doesn't he?" says L'Arachel, rejoining Eirika as they continue down the now mostly-deserted hallway. "But he's a bit of a grouch, unfortunately. We cannot all have my unparalleled grace. I hope to teach him some manners eventually - "

She is cut off when a pegasus knight comes swooping towards them, riding low and careful in the narrow halls. Princess Tana waves at them. "Eirika!"

"What is it?" Eirika asks.

"We've found the throne room, and the enemy commander! Innes and a few others are engaging as we speak! This way!" Tana beckons frantically before turning and flying back the way she came. Eirika and L'Arachel hurry in her wake, down twisting halls, and into a grand throne room. There, a small group is confronting a man standing at the base of the throne.

"There you are, Tana. What took so long?" Innes bites, eyes never wavering from the skinny, black-clad man. The man is wielding a clear blue blade, and something in his face makes L'Arachel's stomach twist. Innes looses an arrow, but the man cleaves it cleanly in two with his blade and sends a flash of wind back Innes's direction. Innes rolls to the side to evade it.

"That's a Wind Sword, Innes! He'll be able to counter your attacks, no matter how far you  are from him!" says Eirika. "Anyone with poor resistance to magic should keep their distance - "

"Then leave it to me," says Tana. "This guy's perfect for me to take down!" Innes grumbles something, but steps back, lowering his bow.

"Tana, take him down hard! L'Arachel, give her covering fire!" Eirika orders. "You shouldn't suffer much damage from his attacks!"

"Right!" says L'Arachel, as Tana kicks her pegasus's sides and flies up towards the ceiling. L'Arachel sends a volley of magic at the swordmaster, who dodges it fairly easily and sends back another jet of wind magic, but it only stings a bit when it sweeps against L'Arachel's side. While he is occupied, Tana swoops in. He dodges her first strike and counters, but the wave of magic barely makes Tana flinch, and her second strike lands true, slamming hard into the man's side. He stumbles - and another figure lunges from behind the throne, landing a second gash across the man's back.

"J-Joshua?" says Eirika. "Where did you come from?"

Joshua looms from behind the throne. "Saw you all heading here. Thought I'd get in on the fun." He is glaring at the man on the ground with cold venom. L'Arachel has never seen him wear such an expression before.

The swordmaster is clearly wounded badly, breathing hard, but still on his feet, blade readied. He lunges at Tana, his swing ferocious enough that she is forced to dart backwards to avoid it. He then turns to face Joshua, and for the first time, his expression changes - from cold and hard, to genuine shock. "You...could it be?"

"Carlyle," Joshua says. His voice is brittle. Fragile. "How did this happen? You taught me to wield a blade. You of all people…"

"You know - ?" Eirika begins to speak, but Carlyle cuts her off.

"You've returned," he says. His face shifts again, to an almost sorrowful expression. "But now...it's too late. It's far too late…"

Joshua's face contorts, and he strikes so quickly that L'Arachel scarcely sees it, just as Tana dives again. Carlyle is caught between her lance and Joshua's sword, and both strikes land true. The swordmaster staggers, and then crumples to the ground.

Carlyle makes a choked sound that sounds rather like a sob. "Queen Ismaire. I'm - "

"Shut _up_ ," Joshua hisses, and raises his blade in both hands, stabbing it into the man's chest. The man makes a choking sound, and falls silent. For a moment, there is no sound in the hall.

Joshua jabs the toe of his boot into the body. "He's dead," he says, unceremonious and flat. He picks up Carlyle's sword, studying the intricate, almost transparent blade.

"Did...did you two know each other, Joshua?" Eirika manages.

Joshua shrugs. "Eh. A long time ago." His voice is a bit shaky, and Eirika doesn't press.

"We've won the day, then!" says L'Arachel, dismounting Theia and petting her mane. "Victory is ours, and Jehanna is free!"

"I'll head out and spread the word," says Tana. "If their commander's down, most of the other soldiers will probably stop fighting." She flies away.

"But…" Eirika frowns. "I wonder where Queen Ismaire is."

"I heard she was in the throne room, but there's no sign of her," says Innes. "And there's no Sacred Stone, either."

"We must search quickly," says L'Arachel. She and Innes both rush from the room, nearly bowling over Seth, who is entering.

"Princess Tana says the battle is won?" says Seth. "The remaining soldiers have surrendered upon hearing that their commander fell."

"Yes, but Queen Ismaire and the Sacred Stone aren't here," says L'Arachel. "We're fanning out to search the palace."

"Right. I'll order everyone to strip the place bare," says Seth. The three of them scatter in different directions.

\---

Only a few minutes of searching later, L'Arachel hears a shout. She hurries into the room from whence it came, and instantly recoils at the overpowering smell of blood - there are long trails of it on the carpet, leading to where Seth is kneeling on the floor. He's hunched over a prone figure, a woman with long red hair and dark, bloodied robes. "I've...I've found Queen Ismaire."

"Oh, no," L'Arachel whispers. She bends over the woman, readies her staff. Queen Ismaire's face is deathly pale and still, her eyes closed, although she still breathes. Even as L'Arachel prepares the spell, she realizes it is futile. She has seen others with that look before, and it can only mean one thing. "I...her injuries are too deep. I can do nothing for her."

"I suspected as much," says Seth. "I will stay with her. Quickly, fetch Princess Eirika!"

L'Arachel nods and sprints from the room. On the way, she nearly crashes headlong into Joshua, and he grabs her arms to steady her. "Where are you running off to, Princess?"

"I must find Eirika," L'Arachel gasps out. "Have you seen - "

"I think she was still in the throne room," says Joshua, his brow furrowing. "Why - "

"No time, I need to go!" L'Arachel slips past him and runs up the hall, bursting into the throne room. Eirika is still standing where they left her, standing stock-still and staring into space.

"Eirika, what are you doing?" L'Arachel bursts out. "It seems Queen Ismaire has been found."

The room feels...heavy, dark...and L'Arachel can't explain why, but somehow the air feels _wrong_. Chills crawl up her spine. But there isn't time to dwell on it. "This way!"

"Y-yes," says Eirika, seeming to shake herself. "Coming!"

When they return to the room Ismaire was found in, Innes and Tana are there as well. They seem to have just arrived as well, panting and out of breath.

"Queen Ismaire…" says Innes. "Is she…"

"We're too late," says Seth heavily. "Her injuries are...She will not last much longer."

"…Jo…Joshua…" Ismaire moans weakly, her eyes still closed. "…Joshua…"

Eirika kneels down over the queen. "Queen Ismaire!"

"Oh, Joshua…" The queen's eyes flutter open. "Where is…that boy…"

"Queen Ismaire…" Eirika whispers, gathering the queen into her arms. "It...it's okay, Queen Ismaire…"

"Please forgive me, Joshua…" Ismaire says, seeming not to hear her. "I was a foolish mother…I was so intent on being queen that I spared no time to be your mother. But I loved you nonetheless…Please understand…"

"...I know, Mother," comes a voice from the door.

"Joshua?" says Eirika, looking up.

Ismaire's eyes widen at the sound of his voice. "Joshua…It really is you…Joshua…my son…"

Joshua moves towards them, kneeling in front of Eirika and Ismaire. He wordlessly holds out his arms, and Eirika passes Ismaire to him. He cradles her gently. "I'm sorry, Mother. I should never have left you. I've no excuse…I wanted to see the world as a man, not as a prince. I wanted to be worthy. I planned on returning to your side afterward…I was so foolish. If I'd been here, I could have - "

"No, it's fine." Ismaire is almost smiling, faintly, even as life is draining steadily from her face. "You're here now…Listen to me, Joshua. The Stone of Jehanna has…" she takes a deep, staggering breath, "...been destroyed. The one who tempted Carlyle is responsible…"

"What?" says Joshua. "Who was it?"

Ismaire is quiet for a moment, catching her breath. Tana lets out a small sob.

"…Carried a dark stone…" Ismaire mumbles. "It is…the origin of all this…It should not exist…Joshua…you must…our country…our people…"

"I understand, Mother," says Joshua solemnly.

"Thank you…Joshua…I have something…something I must give you…I've kept it hidden. Nobody knew...after they left me for dead, I was able to make it to the hiding place...and retrieve it...for you." Ismaire moves a hand to the blade hanging at her waist. "Take it…"

Joshua reaches down and unsheathes it. His eyes widen. "This is…"

"It's one of the Sacred Twin relics, unique to House Jehanna…He who would rule our land must possess it…I've watched over it since your father passed away. I kept it safe and waited for this day to come…"

Joshua nods, laying the blade down. "Mother…I have it now. I understand its meaning…"

"Joshua…My…dear, sweet child…" She lifts a shaking hand, and Joshua clasps it in his. And then, Queen Ismaire is still.

Joshua lowers his head. "Mother…"

Nobody speaks or moves for several moments. Finally, Joshua gives a heavy sigh and lowers Ismaire slowly back to the ground. He then stands, and presents the sword to Eirika. "Here, Princess. Take care of this."

Startled, Eirika accepts the blade. "May I ask why?"

"You're the commander, right? You're the one who oversees our weaponry. Oh, and take this too." Joshua passes Eirika what L'Arachel thinks is an anima tome. "The other one. She had it on her as well. I don't know what should be done with them for now, so...you take care of them."

"Very well," says Eirika softly. "I will deliver them to the convoy. If you have need of them, simply ask me. But…"

"Yeah, I've got some explaining to do, I guess. But...not in here. It's depressing. C'mon." Joshua gestures with his shoulder, and they all quietly file out of the room, leaving Ismaire's body behind. Joshua leads them to another room, one with a long wooden table in the center. "This was my mother's war room...we can talk here." He takes a seat, gesturing for the rest of the group to do the same. A moment passes in quiet.

Seth breaks the silence. "We've questioned some of the queen's attendants. They report that when the Grado army breached the palace walls, they took several of the servants hostage, forcing Queen Ismaire to surrender and lay down her sword in exchange for their lives. When she was unarmed, they took the Sacred Stone from her...and killed her."

"So that's how...makes sense." Joshua's voice is very far away. "Those cowardly fools. Nobody...nobody I'd ever met could best my mother in a duel of blades, one-on-one. I thought...I thought maybe one day, I'd be able to defeat her, and then I'd be able to show her I was strong enough to rule. A kid's silly dream."

"Joshua…" says Eirika tentatively. "You were the missing prince of Jehanna?"

"...Yeah." Joshua is staring into the distance. "It's been more than ten years. I'd grown tired of the formality of palace life, so I…just left. I wrote a farewell and left the palace, taking nothing with me. I felt I could never understand the people while I stayed sequestered in a castle. I abandoned my identity and roamed the continent, working where I could. I wanted only to be worthy of becoming king. I knew one day I would return. Gods, I was so foolish!" He slams his fist onto the table. "I was such a child, I see it now. Was I simply rebelling against my mother? Punishing her for tending to her duties?"

Eirika and the others watch him quietly.

Joshua takes a heavy breath, seeming to regain control of himself. "I was a fool, yes, but I learned much over these ten years. I have learned about the hearts of our people, how they need to be governed. I have learned how our country needs to change and to grow. I have learned much, but I've lost much more. Mother…"

"Prince Joshua…" Eirika tentatively lays a hand on his arm. He does not pull away.

"I made a promise," Joshua continues. "I want to continue what she began. I will help defeat Grado. I will defend Jehanna and her allies. I know it doesn't sound like me, but…"

Innes speaks up. "On behalf of Frelia, I came to Jehanna with a letter to the throne. I give it to you. Prince Joshua of Jehanna…Let us fight together."

Feeling the mood lift a bit, L'Arachel smiles, hoping to encourage it along. She gestures to the gathered princes and princesses at the table. "Renais, Frelia, Rausten, and Jehanna. Four nations…united!"

"Yes, I suppose that's true," says Eirika, also managing a smile. "And my brother is with us as well. And if it were possible…Lyon…I wish you could be here with us, too."

Tana's face falls a bit. L'Arachel twists her hands in her lap. "Princess Eirika...if I may ask you - "

The door bangs open. A Frelian soldier rushes in, panting. "Fire! Fires have broken out all through the hall!"

Joshua leaps to his feet, his chair making a harsh sound as it is forced back across the stones. "What?”

"The curtains were soaked in oil, with torches set about the hall. It's a trap! Someone did this during all the fighting…" He is panting heavily. "You must flee! Quickly, before the flames engulf us all!"

They run into the hall, only to see the soldier is correct. The way they came from is aflame, and it is rapidly spreading - even in these few seconds, the air is beginning to be choked with smoke.

"Princess Eirika," Seth says. "We must evacuate…"

"I know," Eirika nods. "Joshua, we must go. Now."

Joshua is looking back towards the room they left Ismaire's body in, already consumed by flame. "No…Mother…Forgive me…"

"Come on!" Innes barks. "There's nothing we can do for her now, we need to go!"

"You're right," Joshua mutters, and they all race for the exits.

\---

The coughing, choking group stumbles out into the desert sands.

Eirika looks back over her army. "Is everyone well? Did anyone get left behind?"

"We all made it," L'Arachel answers her. It's true - the entire army managed to flee the palace before the flames could overtake them. Even Theia stands by her side. "It's so smoky that it's hard to tell, but we're here." She glares back at Jehanna Castle - the stone walls have trapped the fire safely within, and the sand is not conducive to flame, but the interior has likely become an oven at this point. "What a cowardly act, setting fire to the palace hall. But we've escaped without injury. The enemy's trap has failed."

Innes's voice is grim. "…No, it hasn't. Assemble the troops now. The enemy is coming."

"What did you say?" L'Arachel whirls on him.

"This is the reason for the fire," Innes says. His fists are clenched. "To drive us from the palace. They'll be attacking soon. No other plan makes sense."

"How is it that you know that?" L'Arachel demands.

"Princess Eirika," says Seth, turning away from a group of soldiers, "I've just received word that Grado reinforcements are headed this way. There are two armies, led by Generals Valter and Caellach."

Eirika gasps. "No!"

"Two armies…" Innes tsks harshly. "They're willing to send so many here and leave the capital defenseless?"

"Why does everyone seem so distraught?" L'Arachel asks, forcing a smile, trying to remove the grave expressions on the others' faces. "It matters not who stands in our path. We shall smite them all with the power of righteousness!"

"Princess Eirika…" Seth shakes his head. "It's going to be very difficult for us to continue. One of Grado's generals alone is more than a match for us. Compound that with the exhaustion of our troops, and I'm not sure we can–"

"Bah…" Innes grumbles. "With Jehanna Hall in flames, we've no place to hole up and dig in for a siege. We have to retreat. We have to win ourselves time to form a plan. Grado sent two generals… What could be happening in their capital? And what of Ephraim? Is he still alive?"

Eirika closes her eyes. "…Brother…"

\---

They struggle to regroup. The enemy is gaining rapidly, and at the predictions of the messenger, will arrive within an hour. A hasty tent has been constructed, and within, a hurried war council is beginning to convene.

"Princess Eirika...I ask that you leave for safety. We'll use flying units and magic users to hold the fort here," Seth pleads.

"No," says Eirika firmly, turning to face Seth. Her gaze is icy, so much so that a chill runs down L'Arachel's spine. "I will not retreat. If I give up now…My brother would not forgive me. Nor would my father...and most of all, I would not forgive myself. I'm the princess of Renais. I will fight, either to victory or to death." She shakes her head. "We need to form our strategy now. Tana, what have the scouts reported?"

"Right!" Tana bends over the map of Jehanna spread across the tent floor. "We've got two armies approaching. One from the west, and one from the southeast. Southeast army's much bigger, but west's is closer."

"We shouldn't underestimate either of them, then," says Eirika, studying the map. "And there's the desert terrain to contend with…"

"We got a decent look at the enemy generals, too," Tana continues. "West is led by a big guy, with a bigger axe. Southeast's general is a wyvern knight, creepy-looking guy with messy hair. I couldn't get close enough to really see their faces."

"If this is Grado's finest, then the wyvern knight is most likely General Valter, and the one with the axe is General Caellach," says Innes. "Both formidable, and dangerous foes."

Joshua lets out a strangled sound. "Wait...did you say Caellach?"

"Uh...yeah, he did. Why?" Tana squints at him.

"Nothing, just...keep going." Joshua looks away.

"Okay...anyway, Valter's got a bunch of wyvern knights with him, so they'll be sure to get here fast. Caellach's mostly infantry. Both of them are ready for the desert, no horses to be seen. Huge numbers, lots of different weapons. Mages too. And that's the bulk of it," says Tana.

"We'll likely need to have two squads to handle each group, and whichever squad faces Valter will need to be larger," says Eirika. "We should ensure to have bows with us, as well. I'll lead the charge against Valter."

"Then I'll take Caellach," says Joshua. "We've got...a score to settle."

"You've never commanded troops before," Innes says. "I'm not leaving this in the hands of a greenhorn."

"Enough, Innes," says Eirika, not looking up from the map. "We're all on edge here, but we need to focus. Seth, Tana, Joshua, you three take Caellach. I'll go after Valter with Innes and L'Arachel. Innes's bow and L'Arachel's magic will serve us well against the wyvern knights." Eirika's brow is furrowed as she concentrates (L'Arachel thinks it is beautiful, and she is likely staring, but she doesn't care.) "Tana, take Frelia's men, and Seth, take Kyle and Forde. Bring Sister Natasha as well, so you'll have a healer. That should be adequate for Caellach's group. I'll take the rest of ours to face Valter. We'll have Father Moulder set up the healers' tent back here at the Hall, and leave all horses behind and fight on foot, so we're best able to move through the desert." She looks up at all of them. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, Princess, but I would feel more comfortable if I accompanied you - " Seth begins, but Eirika shakes her head.

"I need Innes with me to shoot down the wyverns, and after him, you're one of our most experienced in leading troops. Your place is fighting Caellach. I have many capable soldiers with me, and I will be fine. I do not wish to be unkind, but these are my orders. I will not be changing them. My decision is final."

Seth begins to protest, but then seems to think better of it. "Uh...understood, Your Highness. I will ready the troops and relay your orders."

"Good. All of you, prepare for battle. We reconvene in twenty minutes," Eirika nods to each of them before hurrying out of the tent. Innes, Seth, and Joshua follow.

A chuckle comes from behind L'Arachel. "They grow up so fast! I've been telling Eirika for ages to stand up to Seth!"

L'Arachel turns to see Princess Tana standing up, her arms full of scrolls and maps. Tana gives a cheerful little bob of her head. "Good on her! He's always been a stick-in-the-mud. He and my brother are like two peas in a pod. You've probably picked up on that though, huh? Oh, I'm Princess Tana, from Frelia. We've talked a few times, but haven't really gotten acquainted…Nice to meet you!" She shifts the papers in her arms and extends a hand.

L'Arachel takes her hand and shakes it. "Charmed, I'm sure. I am the Princess of Rausten, L'Arachel, though I'm certain you knew that already?"

"Of course! Who could've missed it?" Tana laughs, not unkindly. "It's pretty neat. You're the crown princess, right? It must be a lot, to inherit the throne…"

"I consider myself more than up to the task," says L'Arachel. "Regardless, I try not to fret about such things. The gods have tasked me, and so I shall rise to the occasion!"

Tana laughs again. It is bright, and friendly, and L'Arachel finds herself laughing along. "You're hilarious! We need to spend more time together. After the battle, okay?"

"Of course," says L'Arachel. "I am always eager to acquaint myself with my fellow royal princesses of Magvel." A thought occurs to her. "Princess Tana, if I may...you grew up with Princess Eirika, did you not?"

"Yep," says Tana. "We've always been together, and we wrote letters when we were apart. Why? Want to hear some embarrassing baby stories?" Tana leans in, lowering her voice. "Once when we were five Innes decided to sneak up behind her and yell 'boo' so she judo-flipped him. She cried harder than he did."

"...Perhaps later. I actually wanted to ask you about something."

"Yeah? Ask away."

"Eirika has made mention of a Prince Lyon of Grado several times. She seems...quite upset and shaken over the whole thing, although she refuses to let it show. I was wondering…" L'Arachel bites her lip. "...could you tell me anything about him?"

"Oh," says Tana. Her round, bright face has fallen somewhat. "I...well, yeah. I never met him myself, because he was such a shy kid and hardly ever left Grado, but apparently Eirika and Ephraim were really close with him. They spent a lot of time in each other's kingdoms, and had lessons together, I think. And now he's...y'know. Fighting for Grado. He led the strike that led to Queen Ismaire's death, too...We'll probably have to face him in battle eventually. I've tried talking to Eirika about it a few times, but she just insists she's fine and runs off. She's just bottling everything up inside. You probably know how she is about that…"

"I do," says L'Arachel. Something twists in her stomach. "She must be in terrible pain…"

"She is." Tana's voice is heavy. "On top of Lyon, she's very worried about Ephraim too...he's fighting on the front lines, after all. He's terribly reckless. Up til now, he's always managed to pull through somehow, but, well, everyone's luck runs out someday. He's the only family Eirika's got left now, and Lyon was like a brother to her, too, and now she might lose them both." Tana sighs. "I'm kind of dumping a lot on you, huh? But...she's a great person, and she needs help, but she's scared to accept it. I know the two of you have hit it off, so...maybe you can help her."

"I…" L'Arachel swallows, head reeling somewhat (and a part of her is busy pleasurably replaying the "Lyon was like a brother" statement, but it is a selfish part that she is striving to ignore.) "I shall certainly strive to support Eirika. She seems like a very kind person, and a good leader, and does not deserve to be suffering so. Thank you for telling me all of this."

"No problem!" says Tana, returning to her chipper self, but her smile doesn't quite seem to reach her eyes this time. "I really gotta dash, though - we'll be in battle in another half an hour!" She nods to L'Arachel before dashing past her out of the tent.

As Tana hurries out, Dozla pokes his head in. The two do a brief dance of "Oh, I'm so sorry" and "After you, milady"s before Tana continues on her way, and Dozla addresses L'Arachel. "Princess L'Arachel! Princess Eirika is looking for you. She wants to review the battle formation!"

"Coming, Dozla!" L'Arachel says, and follows him out of the tent.

Tana's words ring in her head. _She needs help, but she's scared to accept it...maybe you can help her._

Well, L'Arachel can certainly try.

\---

"We make our stand here," Eirika calls out. She sits on the back of Tana's pegasus, addressing the gathered army. Her eyes are bright, burning, crackling like thunder, even though her face is pale. "The generals of Grado think us weakened and defenseless. Now is our time to prove them wrong. We fight for our freedom - the freedom of not just Jehanna, but all our nations. We fight to liberate all of Magvel from the Grado army's tyranny. We fight for every innocent of Magvel, including those of Grado, crushed beneath an oppressive rule. We stand strong, we keep our heads, and we fight together - and nothing will stop us. Now, who is with me?"

A cheer rises up from the gathered crowd. Tana whoops.

"Good! Form your squadrons. We march!" Eirika lifts her sword skyward, and it shines in the desert sun. " _Jehanna will not fall today!_ "

The cheering raises in volume. Dozla gives a booming laugh. "Gwa ha har! The princess of Renais has guts, doesn't she?"

"She truly does," says L'Arachel, watching Eirika's form, illuminated by the sun. "It is difficult not to believe in her, isn't it? She is...blessed by the gods."

Dozla raises a bushy eyebrow. "What an eloquent turn of phrase, Princess. I've never heard you say such a thing about one other than your own royal self."

"Yes, well...I think it is true, regardless," says L'Arachel. "We are both champions for the same divine force, she and I. I can see it in her eyes."

Eirika descends, handing the pegasus's reins back to Tana, and walks over to L'Arachel and Dozla. "Are you prepared for battle, L'Arachel?"

"Of course!" says L'Arachel cheerily. "I am always ready to embark upon my divine calling!"

"To rid the world of evil, right," says Eirika. She is smiling, but her hands are shaking slightly. L'Arachel wonders if anyone else has noticed. "Innes? Where - oh, there you are."

Innes appears, scowling as usual. "Your bodyguard was kicking up another fuss about being in a different squad from you. Somebody should put a leash on him. Anyway, we're ready to go when you are."

"Regardless of how ready we are...it's time to move," says Eirika, squinting at the horizon. L'Arachel turns and follows her gaze. A dust cloud is kicking up in the distance, a distinctive sight of a large group of people approaching.

"Southeast squad, move out!" Eirika shouts, and there is a chorus of "aye!" and "yes, Princess!"es from the squad. L'Arachel can see Tana and Seth's squad heading off to the west before she turns to follow Eirika into the desert. The sun is baking, the sand comes up nearly to L'Arachel's ankles, the sounds of the enemy are growing louder, and yet somehow, L'Arachel has never felt more alive.

The wyvern knights are upon them almost immediately. "Innes!" Eirika shouts. "You and Gerik take the left flank, and Dozla and Garcia, the right! L'Arachel, with me, towards their general!"

"Understood!" says L'Arachel, drawing her tome. "Let us see how the wyvern knights of Grado fare against the forces blessed by Providence! You, there! En guarde!"

The Grado knight bearing down upon Eirika whirls around at the sound of L'Arachel's voice, but that results in L'Arachel's blast of light hitting him full in the face. He falls almost immediately, tumbling from his wyvern into the sands.

"Hmmm...they don't fare very well, then," L'Arachel comments. "Well, all the better!" She turns to face the next man. "Your turn!"

From there, things are a blur - jets of light, volleys of arrows, sweeping lances - the chaos of battle, something L'Arachel has grown quite accustomed to. It is different with men than monsters - while the monsters wield unearthly powers, they are slow and dull-minded, but men are quick, sharp, and in some ways, more dangerous.

Then again, sometimes the difference is not as distinct as L'Arachel considers it. The events in Jehanna Hall, and the actions of Carlyle...well, it is something to think about.

L'Arachel deftly dodges an incoming axe and knocks the wielder backwards with a counterattack. "This is going quite well, I think!"

"We're holding out," says Eirika, panting, pulling her sword free from another wyvern rider's chest. "But where's their general?"

"Princess Eirika!" A young soldier comes running up to them. "Dad - er, Sir Garcia - sent me to tell you, Your Highness - there's another force attacking Valter's army!"

"What?" Eirika slices away a mercenary. "Who on earth?"

"We're not sure, Princess! They're too far to spot, but it seems to be a small force - no more than a couple dozen men or so. They came from the southwest, it seems! Whoever they are, they're no friends of Valter, and they're pushing back against his forces - so they're probably on our side, right?"

"I suppose they must be, then," Eirika murmurs.

"Valter's men are scattering, too! They weren't expecting to be attacked from the rear, so they're all disorganized! We really might win the day, Princess!" The young man beams, hefting his axe over his shoulder. "Er...that's all, Princess!"

"Right, thank you, Ross," says Eirika, and the boy nods before scurrying off back the way he came. "Reinforcements...from the direction of Grado…is it possible…?"

L'Arachel opens her mouth to ask about Eirika's suspicion, but then the sunlight is suddenly blotted out. L'Arachel jerks her head skyward only to see a great, dark shape descending on them. "Eirika!" She grabs the other woman's waist as they both turn to run, launching sideways and propelling both of them out of the way. They go sprawling in the sand, safely away from the wyvern knight who has just buried his lance exactly where they had been standing only a moment before.

The man tugs his lance free from the ground and straightens, his wyvern flapping a few feet above the ground. His hair is long, tangled, and steely blue, his face is twisted with a warped sort of glee, and L'Arachel's stomach sours at the very sight of him. For he is something horrible, and evil, and _wrong_ , and she is hardly one to run, but L'Arachel wants very much to be as far away from him as possible.

The man cackles. "Mmm...I've been waiting for you, Eirika!"

Eirika holds her blade steady as she gets to her feet, her voice level. "Who are you?"

"Have you forgotten?" the man hisses. "We met once at Castle Renais." Eirika's face remains stiff. "No? Look closely, Eirika," and he leers at her, leaning forward over his wyvern's head, bearing an expression like he is gazing at a choice cut of meat - practically drooling. "Do you not remember the face of he who will master you?"

Eirika recoils, "Wha-!?"

"Yes, resist," the wyvern knight almost purrs. "It's much more fun for me that way. Come, Eirika. I should like to tame you."

"I am here on a mission," says Eirika, her voice low and menacing. "One I swore to my brother, and to myself, that I would fulfill." She points her sword at the knight, and the thunder has returned to her eyes, blazing, burning. "I will not be stopped by the likes of you! Innes, L'Arachel! _Fire at will!_ "

L'Arachel brandishes her tome and fires. Valter swerves to avoid the beam, but in doing so, an arrow flies directly at his head. Without even looking, he catches it against a silver shield on his arm. "Oh, you'll have to do better than that, my prey."

"That's General Valter," Innes pants out, emerging from the left. He fires again, and Valter dodges, almost lazily. "He won't be easy to defeat, but my shot should've done more damage than that - "

"What about this?" Garcia roars, leaping in from the right, axe at the ready. Valter turns to face him, and the two clash together with a shriek of metal against metal.

Dozla runs over to join the group, leading the rest of the right squadron. Rennac is trailing in his wake. "We've caught up, Princess! What now?"

"We must defeat Valter...What is that shield he carries?" Eirika asks. "It deflected Innes's arrow…"

L'Arachel squints. The shield is silver, sparkling in the summer sun. "It is only a theory, but...that may be a Fili Shield. It prevents arrows from causing above-average harm to flying units…they are very rare, but I have read of them. It's said Dame Frelia used one once."

Innes tsks. "Anti-arrows...So I…"

"Should focus on keeping Valter's men busy while the rest of us take him down, since they're still weak to your bow," Eirika finishes. "Go! We'll handle him."

"Fine," says Innes, turning to face the next wave of knights swooping after Valter. "Gerik's mercenaries, to me! Keep the skies clear while Princess Eirika duels their general!" An answering shout rings out from the group accompanying him as they all run to their posts.

Suddenly, Garcia gives a shout of pain, and is flung backwards, skidding across the sand and landing nearly at Eirika's feet with a groan. Ross runs to his father's side, dragging him to safety.

Valter is shaking his head. He is panting, not sitting as high in his saddle, but still holds his lance at the ready. "I've no use for these bloodless minnows...Give me prey that will sate my bloodlust...I _hunger!_ "

Eirika signals to L'Arachel, who lifts her tome and fires again. Valter's eyes widen, but, hindered by Garcia's blows, he does not move fast enough this time. The magic burst is wide enough to catch both him and his wyvern, which screeches with pain.

Valter gives the reins a yank, reorienting himself. His face has changed from smirk to glare. He is no longer laughing.

"Sir Dozla! I am relying on you to cover me! L'Arachel, don't let up!" Eirika runs at Valter, bringing her blade around. He turns to face her, but she nimbly dodges his blows. Dozla bellows, running up and catching Valter's wyvern on its side with his axe. It staggers, sending Valter slipping sideways. L'Arachel fires at his exposed back, hitting him hard enough that he lurches forward over his wyvern's head.

For a moment, L'Arachel thinks the battle is won, but Valter somehow stays seated, reorienting himself and whirling on L'Arachel. "You little - "

"L'Arachel!" Eirika shouts. She swings at Valter, but narrowly misses, and the side of his lance smacks hard into her breastplate. She stumbles, staggering, but stays on her feet - and Valter's second strike pierces her across the side, and Eirika cries out, falling to her knees.

L'Arachel scrambles for her staff, but Valter is bearing down on her. "Hee...I wonder how pretty blue blood tastes?"

"You'll not find out today, fiend!" Dozla roars, slamming hard into Valter, who gives an angry yelp as he is nearly unseated again, bringing up his lance just quickly enough to parry Dozla's axe.

L'Arachel runs to Eirika, who is struggling back upright. Her face is pinched with pain, and the blade of her sword is buried in the ground as she uses the hilt to pull herself up. Her side is bleeding, but not terribly. "It's...it's painful, but not too deep," Eirika gasps out. "Don't worry…"

L'Arachel clasps her hand around her staff and concentrates, and as light flows into Eirika's body, her expression eases and she fully stands once more. "Th...thank you, L'Arachel."

"Is the wound closed? Let me see - " L'Arachel begins, reaching for her, but Eirika shakes her head.

"There isn't time - " and just as she says it, Dozla gives a great roar, a mighty heave of his axe - and cleaves into the neck of Valter's wyvern. Valter dives sideways as his mount collapses with a horrible shriek, slumping in the sand.

Valter gets to his feet, brandishing his lance, his expression murderous. "What fine prey you all are...I underestimated you. I haven't had a challenge like this in _many_ years...Perhaps you will truly be the ones to sate me."

Eirika begins to slowly back away. She doesn't have to speak a word. L'Arachel knows regardless what to do.

L'Arachel drops her staff as Valter bears down upon her, and grabs her tome. She fires the light spell once more, and Valter lunges to the side to avoid it. "You'll have to do better than try that again - "

Eirika reappears from Valter's left, and he begins to turn, but too late - she slashes him across the stomach. He stabs at her with his lance, but she dodges underneath it and brings up her blade once more, and with it, cleanly slits his throat.

Valter's lance falls into the sand as he reaches up to claw at his own neck. He makes a choked gurgling sound.

"You did not tame me, General Valter," says Eirika, lowering her sword and standing back, watching Valter fall into the sand, still clutching his throat as blood spurts from between his fingers. "On this day, _you lost_."

"Urggh...gaaah!" Valter's eyes are filled with hatred and fear. He twitches once more, and then his body is slack and motionless, his horrified expression forever frozen on his face as he stares unseeingly into the sun.

Eirika raises her chin. Her eyes are thunderous, her hair is filled with sand and sunlight, and she is splattered with blood. L'Arachel has never seen something so beautiful.

"GWAH HA HA HA!" Dozla bellows, breaking the silence, and even L'Arachel starts this time - even for Dozla, that was quite an impressive laugh. "Princess L'Arachel, Princess Eirika - that was wonderfully done!"

Rennac shakes his head. "You're suicidal, old man. That was the dumbest thing I ever - "

"You did superbly, Dozla," L'Arachel interrupts. "That was very heroic! Your battle cry was especially thrilling - why, it gave me chills!"

"Ga ha ha! Thank you, Lady L'Arachel! For you, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat! With my hands tied behind my back! Ah, and you too, Princess Eirika! Any friend of Princess L'Arachel's, I will fight to the death to defend!" Dozla slaps a fist against his chest, beaming.

"Ah...thank you, Dozla," says Eirika, managing a smile. Her hand goes to her side, and she winces. "He did not go down easily, though…"

"We've won the day, Eirika," says Innes, reappearing nearby, along with the rest of his men. "I see you've made short work of the general, and Tana just sent word that she and Joshua disposed of Caellach as well. There are a few stragglers, but those yet standing have largely either surrendered or fled. The battle is over. Jehanna has won."

Eirika gives a sigh. "Thank goodness…"

Garcia and Ross come over to them, the former leaning heavily on the latter, but smiling. "You sure taught that creep a lesson, Princess Eirika!" Ross calls. "The look on his face! Well...I couldn't really see his face from where I was, but I bet it was something good!"

"Thank you, Ross. Are your injuries bad, Garcia?" says Eirika with concern. "You should really be lying down…"

"I could say the same to you, Princess. Don't worry, got a pretty hard bump to the head, but I'm well enough. I'll be right as rain after a bit of rest." Garcia waves his free hand. "I'm glad I was able to buy you time to win the day."

"Truly, thank you. Thank you, all of you, for your assistance," says Eirika, addressing the gathered army. "Without all of you, this victory would have been impossible. You all have my undying gratitude for your courage and strength."

"There isn't any thanks needed, Eirika!" says L'Arachel happily. "To be given an opportunity to perform my sacred duty is a gift, not a burden!"

"Still...thank you, L'Arachel. I may never have survived that fight if you hadn't been by my side." Eirika bows her head slightly.

"Oh…" L'Arachel wills her cheeks not to turn pink. "Well, it's kind of you to appreciate my efforts! I would do it all again in a heartbeat!"

"Are you two done with the lovefest?" Innes grouses. "We've got work to do...we got some good loot off these guys, and I need to get it organized."

"Oh, that reminds me…" Eirika gingerly kneels down near Valter's corpse, and unstraps the small silver shield strapped to his arm. "A Fili Shield...Perhaps Tana could make use of it."

"We should cleanse it, first," says L'Arachel. She shudders. "Ugh, what a _dreadful_ man."

Eirika sighs. "He certainly was. I had no wish to prolong his suffering, so I ended things as swiftly as I could...but I am very glad he is gone from this world." She makes to get back up, and groans.

"Here - you should be careful," says L'Arachel, hurrying to her. "I stopped the bleeding, but you need more intensive treatment. Come here…" She takes Eirika's arm and slings it over her own shoulder, wraps her arms lightly around Eirika's midriff, and pulls her gently to her feet. "We should get you to the healers' tent, and I'll get you patched up."

"One thing, first," says Eirika. She looks over to Dozla and Garcia. "You said another army approached us from the southwest, and fought against Grado? Did you see who they were?"

"There weren't many of them, Princess," says Garcia. "I couldn't see them very clearly, I'm afraid. Just a handful of soldiers, but they took out several of Grado's men. They were down to the southwest."

"I think their leader was infantry - he had a lance, maybe?" Dozla scratches head. "Fancy looking armor, too, but I didn't get a good look at the lad."

"A lancer…" Eirika breathes. "Innes, do you think - ?"

"I think we're thinking the same thing," says Innes, squinting southwest. "Wait - no way - is that - ?"

"Eirika!" a voice calls out, and they all turn to see a man running across the desert towards them. A lightly armored, familiar-looking man with shocking blue-green hair, flinging his lance aside in his haste to reach them.

The shield of Fini slips from Eirika's hands into the sand. "Brother!"

She pulls free from L'Arachel and runs towards the figure, heedless of her injuries, and the two meet halfway as they fling their arms around each other, both laughing through tears.

"That is Prince Ephraim?" L'Arachel asks Innes, who nods.

"Figures he'd make a dramatic entrance. Challenging the Grado Army with only a handful of men...that idiot," Innes grumbles, arms folded. "Only he'd do something so stupid, and then turn up like nothing's wrong…"

Innes keeps going, but L'Arachel ignores him.

Eirika pulls back from Ephraim. "Brother? Is that really you? You're not some phantom, are you?"

"No, it's really me." Ephraim smiles at her. "You've done well here, Eirika. I came thinking I would rescue you, but you had things well in hand, did you not? All I did was clean up a few stragglers." He looks a good deal like his sister - Ephraim's hair is slightly darker, his face slightly sterner, but the resemblance is uncanny. The two are within an inch of each other's heights, L'Arachel notes.

"You have my thanks nonetheless, Brother. Oh, Ephraim...I've missed you so," Eirika wipes her watering eyes.

"And I've missed you," says Ephraim, sniffing loudly as he regains his composure. He turns to face the rest of them. "Thank you all for fighting by my sister's side. It is good to know she made such strong allies on her journey."

A small group of men - less than a dozen soldiers, most wearing the colors of Grado - comes running up behind Ephraim. Eirika and company reach for their weapons, but Ephraim lifts a hand. "Hold. These are my allies from Grado, who helped me conquer their castle. This is General Duessel, and the rest are stragglers from his division who joined our cause. None are enemies of ours."

A little girl pokes out her head from behind Duessel's legs. "Is it over, Ephraim?"

"Yes, Myrrh. It's safe to come out now," says Ephraim. The girl steps into the light, lowering the hood of her cape, and L'Arachel blinks in surprise - she has green dragon's wings protruding from her back. Still, L'Arachel has seen stranger things, she supposes.

General Duessel bows his head. "It is good to meet you at last, Princess Eirika. Your brother spoke most highly of you."

"Thank you, sir. And thank you for assisting my brother," says Eirika, returning the bow.

"Prince Ephraim, you wished to give Eirika the relics from Grado?" Duessel inquires.

"Oh, I almost forgot," says Ephraim, starting. "I have something to give you.” Duessel hands Ephraim an axe and a small, black book, which he then passes to Eirika.

"What are these?" asks Eirika in surprise, looking down at them. "Weapons…?"

"These are called Sacred Twins. We took these relics from Grado...the dark tome Gleipnir and the black axe Garm. I doubt either of us can use them, but…why not see if one of your companions can use them? They might have better luck."

Eirika looks up sharply. "They're from Grado? Does this mean Grado Keep has fallen?"

"Yes. I conquered the capital and defeated Emperor Vigarde. But still…" Ephraim's face grows heavy. "Eirika, something is terribly amiss."

"Broth - " Eirika suddenly staggers. She winces, dropping Gleipnir as she lifts a hand to her side, and Ephraim starts forward.

"Eirika? You're hurt?"

"It's nothing," says Eirika hastily, trying to right herself. "A scratch - "

L'Arachel hurries to Eirika's side, reaching around to support her as she wavers. "That is hardly the case! Eirika, may I make a suggestion? We've been able to join forces here, so…how about we reconvene at Jehanna Hall? We should meet up with Tana and Seth's squad. You can get treatment, and we can all get together and trade information. There are people on both sides waiting, after all."

"I…" Eirika leans heavily on L'Arachel's shoulder. "Yes, perhaps that would be best."

Ephraim takes the Sacred Twins. "Back to Jehanna Hall, then. I can help you, Eirika - "

"We have more injured," says Eirika. "L'Arachel has me well in hand - go see if anyone else needs help." Her eyes widen suddenly. "I mean, er, if it would please you - "

"You command this army, do you not? You can give him orders, Eirika," says L'Arachel softly.

Ephraim looks surprised. "Yes, of course. Treat me as any other soldier, Sister. It's fine...I prefer it that way."

Eirika looks conflicted. "It feels...wrong. You're the one who will be king, and you're the better fighter, I am merely - "

"Merely the one who has gathered an army," says L'Arachel. "Please, Eirika, give yourself some credit."

"I...Very well," says Eirika. "Then, all who can still walk, help the injured back to Jehanna Hall to rendezvous. We will take a brief break for everyone's injuries to be treated, and then reconvene for counsel. Brother, please look after the Sacred Twins for me, and drop them off with the convoy master."

"Of course, Eirika," says Ephraim. He turns to his men. "You heard the princess's orders! Move out!"

A chorus of assent rises from both the Grado rebels and Eirika's squad, and they all begin making their way across the desert. L'Arachel grabs her staff and performs another quick healing spell, and Eirika stands a bit straighter.

"L'Arachel, I apologize for burdening you," says Eirika. Her voice is weary.

"It's hardly a burden, Eirika! I am a healer, after all! This is what I was trained to do," says L'Arachel. "Now, walk slowly, and I'll support you the rest of the way."

"That's...what you've always done, after all," says Eirika quietly. "Since we met, you've...supported me. Thank you, L'Arachel."

\---

The healers' tent smells of antiseptic and clean linens. Sister Natasha and Father Moulder are already bustling between the mats, and the soft, shimmering light of healing magic hangs heavy in the air.

L'Arachel carefully helps Eirika over to a free mat. Eirika sits down gingerly with a sigh of pain and fatigue. "Well...we made it."

L'Arachel briskly removes her gloves. "Now, then, we can really get to work. Take your tunic off."

Eirika's face turns a vivid shade of red, and after a moment's pause, L'Arachel does too. "Th-that's not what I - I mean - j-just - Bandages! I'll go get bandages!" and she scurries off to the supply bench, her own face burning.

"Very smooth," Rennac drawls. "I'm charmed off my - "

"Hush, you," L'Arachel replies, taking a deep breath as she rummages through a crate. "What are you even doing here?"

"Dropping off some vulneries I snatched off those goons, and good thing I did, 'cause I happened to see that little scene," Rennac sniggers. "So much for unparalleled grace - "

"Well, go do something useful, then! Shoo!" L'Arachel flaps a hand at him, and Rennac scoffs and leaves the tent. She returns to Eirika, who has removed her breastplate and pulled her tunic partway up her stomach. Her cheeks are still slightly pink, but L'Arachel tries to disregard this as she sits down to examine the wound. It hasn't reopened, but is an angry red.

"It seems my healing magic managed to negate the worst of it," says L'Arachel as she applies salve, trying to ignore how the sensation of her fingertips on Eirika's bare skin sends shivers down her spine. "I'll get you something for the pain, and you should be well soon as long as you take it easy the next few days." She reaches for the bandages and begins to wrap them around Eirika's torso. "There may be some scarring left behind, though."

"That's fine," says Eirika. "I don't...it doesn't matter to me."

The tent flap comes flying open. "Eirika!" Princess Tana rushes over to them, deftly dodging between the mats. "Are you okay? Ephraim said you were hurt…"

"It's not so bad," says Eirika with a smile. "L'Arachel was right there, so I was okay. How did things go on your end?"

"Caellach didn't know what hit him!" says Tana triumphantly. "We had a pretty clean sweep of it, no fatalities - Joshua took out Caellach himself, sliced the dastard almost in half, it was great! I'll give the full report at the war council. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am, Tana. Please don't fret, I'm sure Seth will do it all for you…" Eirika grimaces. "He's going to throw a fit."

Tana waves a hand. "He once threw a fit when you went to the bathroom without telling him first! He'll get over it. How was Valter?"

"Eirika heroically dismembered him," says L'Arachel with pride. "It was _quite_ the sight to behold."

Eirika blushes again. "I had help, though."

"No, take credit!" Tana lightly nudges Eirika's shoulder with her own. "You deserve it, Eirika! I'm sure you were amazing. Well, I should really go - still got stuff to sort out, cleanup to do…" She pulls a face. "See you two at the war council!" Tana rushes out.

"Eirika…" says L'Arachel, softly, so that the other patients and healers can't hear, "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Belittle yourself, diminish your own accomplishments...you are an incredible leader and fighter, Eirika. Please stop dismissing that."

Eirika's eyes widen in surprise. "I...I didn't mean to…I couldn't have won without everyone's help, and..."

"It was thanks to you that we saw victory today, and you have ample praise for each of your compatriots." L'Arachel keeps her tone gentle. "I do not wish to see you speak poorly of yourself, when you are such a fine person, and I know Princess Tana and your brother do not either. It is all well and good to support and elevate your comrades, but please, let yourself have some share of the flattery...all right?"

Eirika looks down at the ground, her hands twisting and untwisting in her lap.

"You don't have to answer me. Just, please...give it some thought." L'Arachel stands, and lifts her voice again. "Now, this beauteous healer must be off! I shall see you at the war council once you are ready!"

"Okay...see you then, L'Arachel," Eirika answers, her voice small, eyes still fixed on the ground. "And, um...thanks, again."

"No trouble! Healing is a sacred calling of mine! Onwards I go, to my next god-given task!" L'Arachel leaves the tent.

She hopes Eirika takes her words to heart.

\---

The war council reconvenes in an abandoned fort near Jehanna Hall. Ephraim, Innes, Tana, and Joshua are already gathered around a round table with a map of Magvel spread across its center. Seth and Dozla stand guard on either side of the door, and behind Ephraim's chair, the little dragon-winged girl stands, twisting her hands together, big eyes darting between all the people gathered at the table.

Eirika enters last, and takes a seat between L'Arachel and Ephraim. L'Arachel is relieved to see that color has returned to Eirika's face, and her movements are steady.

Ephraim speaks first. "I see unfamiliar faces among you here, so allow me to introduce myself. I am Ephraim, Eirika's brother and crown prince of Renais."

L'Arachel nods, placing a hand to her chest. "I'm Princess L'Arachel of Rausten. The pleasure is mine, of course."

"And I'm, er...Prince Joshua, of Jehanna," says Joshua, raising a hand.

Ephraim lifts his eyebrows. "Prince of Jehanna?"

"Yep, I'm home now." Joshua smiles, but it looks more like a grimace. "Long story. I can fill you in later."

"Well...it is good to meet you both, and the rest of you, I know well," says Ephraim. "For those of you who haven't met her...this is Myrrh." He indicates the winged girl, who bows her head slightly. "She is a manakete, as you can see. She hails from Darkling Woods, and has been working alongside us as an ally."

"It is lovely to meet you, Myrrh," says L'Arachel, trying to keep her tone gentle and kind. Myrrh's eyes dart nervously to her, and she gives another little nod, but stays close to Ephraim.

"She is quite shy," says Ephraim. "Anyway, my report...I'll begin by telling you of how we've fared in our mission. We seized the Grado capital and defeated her emperor, Vigarde. Grado's capital guard have, to a man, surrendered and laid down their arms. Pockets of resistance remain, but the war itself is over."

"Is that so?" says Innes, lifting an eyebrow. Tana elbows him.

Ephraim continues. "However, something remains that still bothers me. A Grado man named Knoll told me about something called a 'Dark Stone.' Their mages had uncovered lore that led them to craft a powerful magic stone. This Dark Stone may have been the catalyst of Grado's transformation. It seems to be the source of a black wave of energy Myrrh has been sensing."

"Dark Stone!?" Joshua bursts out, sitting up straight. "Mother mentioned a dark stone…"

Tana nods slowly. "She said that the Dark Stone was the origin of everything that's happened…"

"Yes…" says Ephraim heavily. "Vigarde died some time ago, but the power of the stone played him like a puppet. The war and everything that passed since was planned by the Dark Stone's master."

"Well? Who is it?" Innes asks impatiently.

Ephraim casts his eyes to the table. "…I still can't believe it, but I'll tell you nonetheless. According to Knoll, the man behind this is Lyon, the imperial prince." Eirika stiffens in her seat. "He said Lyon's got the Dark Stone."

Innes scoffs, leaning back in his chair. "Figures it's Prince Lyon…"

"No, that doesn't make any sense," says Eirika, gripping one hand tightly in the other in her lap. "Ephraim and I know Lyon better than that. We've been friends for years. Lyon's not the sort of person who could start a war like this."

"But, Eirika… _Ah!_ " Innes doubles over and glares at his sister. Tana's face is innocent and her eyes are fixed on Eirika, but L'Arachel suspects Innes has just received a hard kick to the ankle.

"I saw Lyon recently," Eirika continues hurridly, words tumbling from her mouth. "Ephraim, you might know this, but after I abandoned the sea route to Rausten, I traveled overland with Prince Innes and Princess Tana to Jehanna. In Jehanna, we ran into trouble with Grado's forces, and I chanced upon Lyon. He didn't share the details of his situation, but he intimated that he was on our side. Despite all appearances, he was on our side. So Lyon…"

 _When did she meet with Lyon in Jehanna?_ L'Arachel frowns. Across the table, Tana's expression mirrors hers.

Ephraim lowers his eyes to the table. "Eirika, I also met Lyon."

"Did you really?" says Eirika, gripping his arm. "Then…"

"Yes. But he was like a completely different person." Ephraim's voice is weighed down with sorrow. He sounds years older than he is. "To be honest, he didn't seem to be completely…human."

"Ephraim…" Eirika's voice trembles. "What are you saying?"

"I'll tell you what I saw," Ephraim continues. "I found Lyon inside Grado Keep. This is what he told me. He said he was behind this war. He said he'd befriended us solely so that, one day, he could invade Renais…He told me...he...killed our father." Ephraim's voice wavers slightly, but his face remains stiff.

Eirika releases her grasp on his sleeve, her hand falling limply. "That… That can't…" Her voice shakes, but like her brother, her eyes are dry.

Impulsively, L'Arachel reaches for Eirika's free hand beneath the table, and places her own over it. To her surprise, Eirika turns her hand, twining her fingers tightly with L'Arachel's and squeezing, as though clinging on for dear life.

"I know," says Ephraim hollowly. "I can't believe it either. I refuse to believe it. How could he have planned all this since he was a child? …I simply can't fathom it. I've heard Lyon changed when he acquired the Dark Stone. I've no knowledge of magic, but…there was something uncanny about him. It seemed almost as though he were being controlled by something himself."

At Ephraim's words, a previously long-forgotten voice echoes in the back of L'Arachel's mind. _A great evil approaches Magvel once more. It has already begun to root its tendrils here, in this place...southward, in Grado._

Eirika stares at the table. L'Arachel squeezes her hand.

"The two of you might find this hard to accept, but…" Innes shrugs. "The state of Prince Lyon's heart matters little."

"Innes!" Tana whispers harshly. "How can you be so - he's their _best friend!"_

"He has the Dark Stone," says Innes. "That rock is the cause of all that's happened. The prince must be stopped."

Anger is burning on Joshua's face, and when he speaks, every word is aflame. "For once, I agree with Prince Innes. One way or another, we need to get rid of the Dark Stone. No matter who's got it."

Something clicks within L'Arachel. There _was_ a time when Eirika could have spoken with Lyon, and that would explain…"Not yet. There is something that needs doing first."

Eirika looks to her in surprise. "L'Arachel?"

"I felt something, in the throne room of Jehanna Hall, likely just after Prince Lyon vacated the room. Prince Ephraim, I do believe you felt it as well." Ephraim looks at her, confused. "The Dark Stone held by Prince Lyon…It exudes a malefic miasma. We might be able to handle Prince Lyon alone, but that stone is beyond our ken."

"Then what do you suggest?" asks Eirika.

"The Sacred Stones!" says L'Arachel brightly.

"The Sacred Stones?" Eirika ventures.

"We've all heard the legend of the five Sacred Stones. They alone possessed the power to seal the Demon King away forever. So, of course, to dispel demonic magic, we must use the Sacred Stones!" L'Arachel beams, looking around the table. Everyone's faces are blank.

"You expect us to pin the outcome of this war on some fool legend?" Innes growls.

"…Not just the legend," says Ephraim, his brow furrowed. "We also have hope. According to Lyon, he has already seen to the destruction of Grado's, Frelia's, and Jehanna's stones."

"Hm. That explains something…" Eirika's face brightens. "Grado forces attacked me, intent on destroying the Stone of Renais. If that could be the reason they chose to invade Renais...The power of the Sacred Stones may be greater than we'd ever known."

"Yes, exactly!" says L'Arachel encouragingly. "If we acquire a Sacred Stone, we'll be able to oppose the Dark Stone's might!"

"But three of the stones have been shattered," says Tana. "Including Frelia's."

"And Jehanna's, despite my mother's best efforts," Joshua chimes in.

"Meaning our options are few," Innes finishes. "Do you suppose that, during the invasion of Renais…"

"No, I don't think so," says Ephraim thoughtfully. "The Stone of Renais is hidden by the power of Eirika's and my bracelets." He lifts his right wrist; a thick golden bangle much like Eirika's shines there, set with a glimmering red stone.

Eirika nods. "Grado has made many attempts to take our bracelets. Every one has failed, and so the stone may still be safe."

"We have to confirm that, of course. We've defeated Grado, and we must turn our eyes to our homeland." Ephraim's eyes are gleaming. "It's time to return to Renais."

Eirika nods, her face firm and filled with resolve once more.

"Hear, hear!" Tana cheers. "Let's finally drive those Grado bastards out!"

"Tana!" Innes scolds, scandalized. "Your language - "

"Sounds fun," Joshua cuts across them. "I lost track of this conversation a long time ago, to be honest, but fighting's something even I can do. Plus, Jehanna owes Renais a debt now, and I need to see it repaid."

"Then we are all agreed?" says L'Arachel.

"Yes," says Eirika. "We march on Renais. Now is when we reclaim our castle, and our Sacred Stone."

Tana cheers again, Joshua joins in, and then Ephraim does too, and Innes tries futilely to quiet them. By the door, Dozla is laughing, and Seth rolling his eyes. Eirika is smiling now, although something sorrowful still lingers in her expression.

"Eirika," says L'Arachel quietly, under all the noise, "are you well?"

"Yes," Eirika answers, just as softly. "I am prepared to return home."

"Then I am with you," says L'Arachel, "always."

Eirika's fingers are still loosely clasped in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're being canon-compliant here, so yeah, Ismaire still had to die. Boo. I tried to at least give her a tiny bit more agency, at least...oh well.


	6. Ruled By Madness

The journey from Jehanna Hall to Renais Castle is not a brief one. Eirika's army must pass through western Jehanna and then into Renais. The land is riddled with more of the monsters evidently summoned by Lyon's Dark Stone. Still, after regrouping, the army marches from Jehanna Hall the next morning. L'Arachel is somewhat relieved to leave the desert and its deep, life-sucking sand behind. The next days pass largely without incident, and they cross into Renais well ahead of Innes's predicted schedule.

It is there that they encounter their first skirmish - a decently-sized village beset by an array of foul monsters. Eirika and Ephraim barely exchange a glance before the former commands the army to prepare for battle.

Rennac whines (as usual!) as he narrowly dodges an attack from a mogall. "How come we're _still_ dealing with these guys? I thought we were going to be storming castles and stealing treasure!"

"We are beholden to slay evil in all its forms, Rennac! Such is our sacred duty!" L'Arachel and Theia nimbly leap over a second mogall's blast. "You know that very well! Our job is to draw the fire of these monsters so that the good people of this village can leave safely!"

Dozla comes jogging past, a small child in each arm. "I've evacuated this area, Princess L'Arachel! Feel free to wreak havoc at will!"

"Don't wreak havoc!" says Rennac hastily, but L'Arachel has already drawn her arm back and fired. The burst of light incinerates both mogalls with a shriek, and Rennac has to leap out of the way of pieces of mogall corpse as parts of it tumble to the ground. "L'Arachel! You nearly hit me!"

"Don't be foolish, Rennac, I had things well in hand," L'Arachel chides. "You were nowhere near the bulk of my attack. I would not place your life in danger in such a way."

"That is the biggest load of bull - "

"And away! To the next monster! Don't fall behind!" L'Arachel gallops towards a gargoyle descending on a petrified young woman. "Never fear, my lady! The beautiful princess of peerless beauty has arrived!"

"Gwa ha ha! I knew that name would catch on, Princess L'Arachel!" Dozla bellows, coming up behind her. "I'm certain they'll be hearing of your heroic exploits as far as Frelia now!"

"I'm _fine_ , by the way, thanks for asking," Rennac grumbles.

\---

The battle is wrapped up quite efficiently, and while a few homes suffer damage, neither Eirika's army nor the villagers face any casualties. The handful of injuries sustained are all able to be quickly patched with healing magic.

"We must thank you in some way," the village elder says tearfully, Eirika's hand clasped in both of his. "Please, you must accept - "

"There is no need," says Eirika hastily. "We were just passing through on our way to Renais Castle - "

"The castle?" The elder peers at her more carefully, then looks to Ephraim, and gasps. "Are you two - ?"

"Oh dear," Eirika mumbles.

"You are! You must be the lost prince and princess! You've come to liberate us from Grado!"

"Well...yes," says Eirika hesitantly, "But - "

"We must provide you with some kind of aid!" the elder insists. "It's been such a struggle here with all the monsters - Grado has given us no help, and we'd nearly lost hope! At least let us grant you accomodations for the night?"

The woman standing beside him nods. "I'll open my tavern doors to you lot for free - not quite enough room for everyone, but I'm sure we can find places to put the rest up for the night. Free food and drink too. It's hardly any trouble compared to what the monsters put us through, after all."

Eirika casts a quick look back at her group, then looks back at them. "I...I suppose if it is only for a night, and it's truly no trouble?"

The elder nods vigorously. "None at all, none at all!" He shouts over his shoulder to the assembled citizens. "Gather our best - we're throwing a feast!"

The tavern is lively and bustling with celebration that night. True to the elder's word, the village has prepared a veritable feast of food and drink. The tavern can barely contain so many guests, but it doesn't seem to be stopping anyone from crowding in. The scarlet-haired mercenary dancer, Tethys, is leading villagers and soldiers alike in a group dance while several others play instruments, though the music can barely be heard over all the chatter and laughter.

L'Arachel is sitting alone at a corner table, Dozla having just gotten up to perform some kind of jig with Garcia, and Rennac having fallen asleep in his mug. Eirika, Tana, and a myrmidon called Marisa are seated a few tables away. Tana is telling some kind of dramatic story, complete with exuberant gestures, but L'Arachel's eyes are glued to Eirika, who is giggling at her friend's antics.

A voice comes from over L'Arachel's shoulder. "This seat taken?"

Joshua is standing there, holding a tankard. L'Arachel nods and he seats himself across from her. "Quite a party they're putting on here, huh?"

"Indeed," says L'Arachel. "It is quite lively, isn't it?"

"It's just like the old days...Almost makes one forget one's at war," says Joshua, lifting his mug to his lips.

L'Arachel studies his face carefully. "Are you...all right, Joshua?"

"Nah, not really." Joshua shrugs one shoulder. "But that can wait - and I don't exactly want to be treated like I'm made of glass, either."

"Then I won't do so," L'Arachel answers coolly. "Why did you join me? Did you wish to play another game?"

"N-no!" says Joshua hastily, a hand flying to his breast pocket where L'Arachel knows his wallet is kept. "I mean, uh, no, thanks. Besides, I learned my lesson, remember? No more gambling."

"Hm," says L'Arachel, narrowing her eyes. "So you have. Mind you remember it."

They pass another moment in silence. A few tables away, Eirika throws her head back, laughing, as Tana mimes something unintelligible.

"So…." Joshua drawls, leaning back in his seat so that his front two chair legs lift off the ground, "you and Princess Eirika, huh?"

"What? What about us?"

"I did see you two holding hands under the table at the war council the other day, y'know. What's happening there, huh?"

"I fail to see how it's any of your business," says L'Arachel stiffly. "I was merely offering Princess Eirika emotional support during a turbulent time."

"Hmm…" Joshua takes another swig from his drink. "Sounds a bit above and beyond an advisory role to me, personally. Plus, that doesn't explain why you're making eyes at her now."

"Making eyes? Would you care to elaborate?"

"You know, staring with that dreamy look on your face," says Joshua conversationally. "It's kind of obvious. Also, you're turning red. You're not exactly known for your subtlety, L'Arachel."

"This is hardly becoming behavior," L'Arachel sniffs. "Idle gossip, as well. For shame, Joshua. I see my holy teachings were lost on you."

Joshua shrugs a shoulder. "Guess I'm a lost cause."

"And for your information, my relationship with Eirika is no business of yours. The gods frown upon such meddling," L'Arachel narrows her eyes.

"Did you just make that one up? But y'know, you should really just talk to her. Ask her out or whatever."

"This is a war, Joshua. That would hardly be appropriate. Princess Eirika has more than enough to keep her busy, and I have my own sacred calling to fulfill. This is simply not the time for such things, and - "

"Sounds like an excuse to me." Joshua's chair legs creak as he leans further back. "There's never gonna be a time for 'such things' if you look at it that way."

"Well, it is the truth. Besides, she very well might not feel the same way, and - " L'Arachel stops, rethinking the last few lines of conversation. "Wait. You _tricked_ me."

"Sure did," Joshua drawls lazily. "So you _do_ have a thing for her - "

"Well, if you're going to be like that, why don't you take your own advice, Joshua? I believe Sister Natasha is standing right over there - "

Joshua's chair legs slam back to the floor. "Okay! Okay, okay, geez. I'll stop." Joshua raises both hands in surrender. "I get the message."

"Very good. See that you don't forget it." L'Arachel lifts her drink to her face, hoping it covers up any lingering blush.

"Ga ha ha! An excellent party, isn't it, Princess L'Arachel, Prince Joshua?" Dozla appears from nowhere, throwing an arm around Rennac's neck. The latter jerks awake, sputtering for air.

"Sure is," says Joshua noncommittally. "Well, I'm off. See you later, Princess." He gets up and wanders off - in the direction of Sister Natasha, L'Arachel notes with a twinge of pride.

Rennac has successfully managed to disentangle himself from Dozla's tipsy embrace. "What is wrong with you, old man? You nearly strangled me - "

"Gwar ha ha! We're friends! That's what friends do!"

"Try to asphyxiate each other? No wonder you don't have more friends!"

"You're a funny one, Rennac! I have Lady L'Arachel, don't I? A song, then! To Lady L'Arachel!"

Dozla begins what sounds like a somewhat slurred version of Rausten's national anthem with L'Arachel's name inserted, but L'Arachel herself is distracted by Eirika watching, and laughing, and…

Maybe this _is_ a bit more than a small crush.

\---

Due to limited rooms available, everyone in the army ends up having to share with at least a couple of others. After much debate, Seth and the village elder consent to agreeing that fellow princesses would make proper roommates for Eirika. Hence, Eirika ends up getting a room with L'Arachel and Tana as bedfellows.

Literal bedfellows.

"It will be a bit snug with the three of us, won't it?" says Eirika, looking anxiously at the double mattress. "Perhaps it would be better if I took the floor - "

Tana rolls her eyes. "We'll fit, Eirika. I've shared beds with you plenty of times. Don't try to martyr yourself, okay?" She's busily rummaging throughout the room, and pulls back a curtain draped across the corner. "Look, there's a bathtub back here! And the pump's right outside our room...When was the last time any of us took a real bath?"

L'Arachel realizes in that instant that it has been...quite a long time. They rinse in ponds and rivers and such, but never in actual tubs, and by the look on Eirika's face, she's probably thinking the same thing.

"Well, how about we each have one?" Tana suggests, grabbing a bucket. "It'll take a bit, but we can get this thing filled!"

And so they do. L'Arachel takes the last slot, as she is the one helping the least (the physical labor involved in lugging buckets of water is not, perhaps, her strong suit as one who primarily studies magic.) The water is room temperature at best, but it's something. After her bath, L'Arachel emerges from behind the curtain and Tana lets out what can only be described as a squeal.

"Your hair's so curly! You have it up all the time, I've never seen it loose before!"

"Really?" L'Arachel pulls on a yellow-green curl. "I suppose I've never given it much thought."

"It's, ah...very pretty, L'Arachel," says Eirika. Her face is slightly flushed, and L'Arachel assumes it is from the bath.

"We have to do each other's hair, right?" Tana claps her hands together. "I've got ribbons, and a brush, and a hand mirror..."

"...We _have_ to?" L'Arachel blinks.

"Of course! It's a sleepover, that's what you do! It's like a rule! ...Don't tell me you've never had a sleepover before."

"Not really," L'Arachel admits. "I did not have many peers my own age growing up, as I was engrossed in my divine duties."

"Well, we'll show you!" Tana grabs Eirika's arm. "Eirika and I had a bunch of them! But hairstyling is a must."

"Is it as she says, Eirika?" L'Arachel asks.

Eirika gives a little shrug, but she's smiling. "More or less."

And so hairstyling occurs.

"It is certainly...er, unique," says Eirika, touching one of the dozens of tiny braids, woven with brightly colored ribbon throughout her own locks. "Ah...what led to you two choosing these colors?"

"Making you squirm," says Tana happily at the same time as L'Arachel saying, "Tana suggested it." The former cackles.

"I expected no less from you, Tana," Eirika sighs. "And...then the chignon?"

"That one was my doing! I thought it would befit your elegant self," says L'Arachel. "It...is true that the additional ribbons may have been a bit much."

"At that point I'd just unleashed her," says Tana, beaming. "An excellent pupil!"

"It wasn't intended to be silly! I just got carried away a tad. With the ribbons." L'Arachel shakes her head.

"Well, get over here, Tana, and let me inflict my revenge," says Eirika, waving a ribbon menacingly. "Come, L'Arachel."

Tana shudders, at odds with the grin on her face.

Eirika scoots on the bed to one side of Tana's head. "L'Arachel, you take the other side. Do whatever pleases you."

"Very well!" says L'Arachel cheerfully. "My, hairstyling is fun!"

"Oh nooo!" says Tana dramatically. "My time has come at last! The hunter is now the hunted!"

"Hold still, hunted," Eirika scolds, carefully twisting a thick lock of hair around her finger.

"Indeed! I will bring divine punishment upon thee, demon!" says L'Arachel, reaching for the ribbons.

Tana's hair ends up distinctly lopsided, with an elaborate, swirling bun on one side and an assortment of tiny ribbon-tied ponytails on the other. She beams at her reflection in the mirror, making primping gestures. "Looks amazing. I'm going to go to Innes's coronation ball in this someday, just you wait - "

"I'm sure he'll love that," says Eirika innocently. "You'd be the talk of the ball."

Tana's grin becomes wicked. " _Exactly_."

"And now, your turn, L'Arachel," says Eirika, turning to her.

"A true prophetic hero knows when to accept defeat," says L'Arachel, her tone dignified. "I am at your mercy, o wicked ones."

"It won't hurt a bit!" says Tana gleefully.

Eirika runs her fingers through L'Arachel's curls, and the light, gliding touch of fingertips on scalp sends shivers down L'Arachel's spine. Eirika's face is relaxed and unguarded. She and L'Arachel are inches apart, Eirika's hand is resting in L'Arachel's hair, and L'Arachel can see a single droplet of water trickle from Eirika's still-wet hair down her neck to her collarbone, disappearing under the neck of her nightdress, and -

"It really is lovely, L'Arachel."

"Er. Thank you." L'Arachel hopes her voice isn't squeaking. "Uh - what is, exactly?"

"Your hair, I mean. It's quite striking, up or down." Eirika's face is pink again. "It almost seems a shame to, er - "

"I have accepted my fate! You should do what you must, Eirika. It _is_ the sleepover rule," L'Arachel scolds.

"She's right, it is," Tana calls from across the room, digging in her bag for more ribbons. "No way out of it!"

After the ordeal is complete (and L'Arachel is sporting a rather magnificent fontage, and not sure exactly how Tana managed to accomplish it,) Eirika sighs and stretches. "This is...nice, relaxing like this. I'm not sure I've done it since Renais fell."

"Shh! No heavy topics," Tana scolds. "This is our night off. Just hairdos and girl talk." She lies sprawled across the foot of the bed, her head dangling off the side. "So...honesty hour time! But lighthearted!"

"Honesty hour?" L'Arachel asks.

"We ask questions, and everyone has to answer honestly," says Tana. "But this is gonna be a lighthearted one, so only nice questions, okay? No 'what dead person would you bring back to life' or 'what's the worst thing that ever happened to you' type stuff. Oh, and everything remains super secret. Nobody outside this room gets to hear a word!"

"Very well," says Eirika, sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed.

"Yes, this sounds like a good way to develop our relationships with one another," L'Arachel agrees.

"We've decided, then! Eirika, why don't you ask the first question?"

"Uhh…" Eirika's eyes dart back and forth. "Um...favorite colors?"

Tana rolls her eyes. " _Eirika_."

"I'm sorry, you put me on the spot! ...Mine's red."

"Mine is gold," L'Arachel contributes.

"Fine, pink," says Tana. "And that's all. I don't want to be mean, Eirika, but that's kind of a lame way to start honesty hour."

Eirika shrugs. "I'm not good at coming up with questions. You go next, then."

"Hmmm…" Tana kicks her sock-clad feet in the air. "Something fun...what's the biggest prank you've ever pulled?"

"I'm sure it doesn't rival yours, but…" Eirika's eyes dart quickly back and forth. "Neither of you may tell a soul."

"I would not dare break the sacred rules of the honesty hour!" L'Arachel promises, hand on her heart. "Not a word to anyone!"

Tana nods empathetically. "She's right! Now, do go on, Eirika…"

"All right…" Eirika takes a deep breath. "It was after Seth became General of Renais. In peacetime, he was expected to personally safeguard the royal family...and while he did spend some time guarding my father and brother, he spent quite a bit of time following me around, constantly asking me to be more careful or let him do things for me. Perhaps it was out of some sense of chivalry, or Father was concerned about me often going unarmed and therefore gave him extra orders, but...he seemed to think I was utterly helpless, even within my own palace. You know how he is, right?"

"Annoying," Tana stage whispers.

"You...could put it that way, yes. But I was sick of his hovering everywhere, I could hardly get a moment to myself, and he would not listen when I asked him to give me space. I could have gone to my father, but I was...frustrated. I chose to take matters into my own hands."

"Ooh, I didn't know about this…" Tana hugs a pillow to her chest, grinning. "Go on…"

"I was...a bit embarrassed to tell you, truth be told. Anyway, I realized I had to come up with some way to convince Seth that constantly stalking me would lead to disaster. So I…" Eirika looks a bit sheepish, but her smile divulges her pride. "I waited for an opportune moment. I slipped away from him for a bit, and when I heard his footsteps approach my room, began to strike up a loud conversation, allegedly with my brother, although he was in fact not in the room."

"What kind of conversation?" Tana asks suspiciously.

"That was the prank...I talked about my new guard and how I was happy to have the 'fresh meat.' After pausing to give my false brother time for response, I then elaborated that 'after the last one' I hadn't expected my father to ever leave me alone with a bodyguard again. I then reminisced about the sorts of things I had done to my previous bodyguard, although I kept it vague - mentioned how entertaining his screams of pain were, how he cried like a baby after the first month, that sort of thing." The tips of Eirika's ears go red. "It sounds silly, and cruel, now that I talk about it…"

"It wasn't as if you actually did those things, though," says L'Arachel. "Did Seth fall for it?"

"Truly, it was so over the top that I doubt he believed a word of it. However...I do believe my feelings and intentions shone through. Seth never mentioned having heard me, but he did let me be whenever we were within the palace walls from that point on. Ephraim wondered how I did it, but I never told him. I did consider letting him in on it, but he probably would've just laughed through the whole thing."

"How very cunning of you!" L'Arachel says.

Eirika laughs, a small, soft, lovely sound. "I don't know...maybe it would've been better to go to my father. But the best part was Seth's face the next time I saw him. It looked like he was trying to decide whether to yell at me or flee in terror. I just smiled at him and asked if he was feeling okay."

Tana erupts in peals of laughter. "I wish I'd seen it! That guy needs to be taken down a peg once in awhile. He always looks like some stuck a stick up his - "

Eirika smiles. "Now, Tana. Sir Seth works very hard to help lead the troops and protect my family. I trust him with my life, and owe him a lot. ...But, yes, he is rather a pain."

"I'll say!" Tana mimes wiping a tear from her eye. "Okay, so...what about you, L'Arachel?"

"I can't say I've had much opportunity to pull...pranks," L'Arachel admits. "But, well...I did, once in a while, attempt to trick Dozla into believing I was peacefully asleep in bed, when I was actually out in the palace gardens, evading my duties. I was quite young, though."

"The 'pillows under the covers' trick?" Tana asks. "That's an old standby."

"Truthfully, I now doubt Dozla actually believed I was asleep in bed. He would have long, animated conversations with random guards in the gardens. He would tell them how 'peaceful' I looked in bed, and how he couldn't bear to wake me, and what a sweet and obedient child I was, until I would emerge from behind him and attempt to surprise him. He always acted surprised and told me I was terribly clever, though. And you, Tana? What mischief did you get up to as a child?"

"Where do I start?" Tana sits up and stretches, smiling proudly in reminiscence. "The time I filled Innes's underwear drawer with frogs...or strung his bow with knitting yarn...or hid under his bed and jumped out screaming...ah, good times."

"Oh, Tana," Eirika sighs, but she is still smiling. "You are incorrigible."

"Only to Innes! And he always deserved it, anyway. Each time was revenge for him yelling at me, or telling me I couldn't play swords with him and Ephraim, or pulling my pigtails, or telling Father I was taking pegasus rides without permission...anyway, it was rightful justice! If I try being nice and reasonable he always just shakes his head and calls me a child anyway. We're barely a year apart!"

L'Arachel blinks. "Is that what siblinghood is like?"

"No, not necessarily." Tana bumps Eirika's shoulder with her own. "I've never seen this one and her brother even argue. Always nicey-nice."

Eirika shrugs. "It's true, I suppose. Perhaps it's being twins, or perhaps it just varies in families."

"Now that I think on it, Uncle says he and Mother were always very close, and they were a few years apart," says L'Arachel. "I haven't any direct knowledge myself, though."

Tana pulls a face. "I don't want to talk about brothers anymore. I get enough of that already, thanks. 'Tana, tell Prince Innes' this. 'Tana, do you know if Prince Innes likes' that. 'Prince Innes' all day, every day. It...it gets really old." Her voice has gotten smaller.

"Tana…" Eirika puts a hand on her friend's arm. "I know. Believe me, I know. Did you know...since my brother joined with us, people have been going to him to ask for orders or requests or ask the army's plans. Sometimes they even go to him and ask what he thinks of orders I've given. He tells them to ask me, and he doesn't know I know, but...it's like, now that he's here, everyone automatically assumes he's the one in charge. And I don't really mind, but...most of these people fought beside me for ages, and yet when he turns up, they immediately turn to him instead. Some people have even asked him when he's taking over the army. And - and it's not everyone. Just some of them. It's not like anyone's disobeying my orders, either. But...it does hurt somewhat."

L'Arachel frowns. "Well, that's simply rude!"

"It makes sense, though. He's so much stronger, and more confident, and he's the crown prince...why wouldn't they want him to lead instead?" Eirika smiles tremulously. "I...I don't bring the sort of strength that people want in a leader. It simply doesn't come to me naturally. I fear I am somewhat lacking as a commander. Even...even Seth defers to Ephraim, yet he tries to contest my orders. Because I appear weak in front of my men. I know I should not, and yet - "

"Stop, please," L'Arachel can't quite keep the begging tone from her voice. "Eirika - I asked you not to speak of yourself in such a fashion."

Eirika seems to close in somewhat, curling away from them both. "I...I didn't mean to upset you, L'Arachel. I am terribly sorry - "

"Please, Eirika," L'Arachel takes both of Eirika's hands in her own. "I don't want you to apologize. I simply want you to know that I think none of what you are saying is entirely truthful." Eirika looks up in surprise. "I am not calling you a liar. I think you believe what you are saying is true, and I find it heartbreaking. It is heartbreaking that such a kind, generous, hardworking person would be so unkind to herself. You have brought together an army, one that saved Jehanna and Carcino from evil. You fought on the front lines to bring your people home safely. Those are not minor achievements, Eirika. Your brother's strengths and gifts do not somehow render yours meaningless."

Eirika lowers her eyes. "...I...I…"

"She's right, Eirika," says Tana gently, slipping an arm around Eirika's shoulders, and L'Arachel starts slightly: she had forgotten Tana was even in the room. "I've been telling you that for years."

Eirika rubs a hand quickly across her eyes, and Tana gives her a squeeze. L'Arachel hesitantly reaches forwards and both she and Tana wrap Eirika in a hug.

Eirika's breathing is somewhat ragged, but it steadies as they hold her. After a few moments have passed, they draw apart.

"Thank you," Eirika mumbles quietly. "I'd, ah...like to talk about something else now."

"No problem!" Tana taps a finger on her chin. "Back to honesty hour questions, hmmm...oh, what about...first crushes!"

Eirika turns red. "I'd...rather not talk about that either, please."

"Boo," Tana pouts. "Well, I'll still tell you mine...it was Captain Syrene. She was hired to be my guard back when she was in training. I was like, eight, and she was a teenager...I thought she was just the coolest thing, and the prettiest, too." Tana shakes her head. "I mean, she is cool and pretty, but I just followed her around like a lost puppy. It's...kind of embarrassing now. But there it is! So now you don't have to be embarrassed either."

Eirika just shakes her head, the tips of her ears still red.

"Okay, okay. No crush talk. Fine." Tana sighs. "I'll get something out of you one day."

"Don't pick on Eirika," L'Arachel mock-scolds. "Besides, I thought it was someone else's turn to pick the question?"

"Oh no, she learns fast!" Tana sighs. "Fine, fine. Just one more question though...have either of you have you had your first kiss yet?"

Eirika makes a distressed squeaking noise. L'Arachel pats her shoulder. "It _is_ my turn, Tana. What about...everyone's favorite childhood game?" It sounds innocuous. A tad redundant of the previous question, but in L'Arachel's haste to change the subject she is somewhat strapped for ideas.

"Ooh!" Tana's hand shoots up in the air. "I know this one! She and Ephraim would dress up as each other to try and get out of lessons they didn't want to take! But Eirika would apologize too much and Ephraim would be too contrary, so their teachers always figured it out."

"It's true," says Eirika, whose face is returning to its usual color. "It was more for fun than anything - to see if we could finally pull it off successfully - but it never worked. We'd both wear hats, to hide our hair, and each other's clothes. It would work for a spell, but then one of us would make a mistake and the teachers would catch us. Father always found it humorous though. He never fell for it, even for a moment."

"I suppose parents can tell their own children apart," says L'Arachel.

"He certainly could," says Eirika. "We looked exactly alike as very small children, and apparently our nannies frequently got us confused, but Father always knew. What of you, L'Arachel? Your favorite childhood pastimes, I mean?"

"Dozla and I underwent extensive hero training," says L'Arachel. At the other two's blank faces, she elaborates, "I mean, he would be the monster, and I would practice slaying said monsters."

"Er...you _slayed_ Dozla?" says Tana.

"Not for real! I would never!" L'Arachel feigns horror, placing a hand on her chest. "I merely pantomimed, and if I did bop him with my staff, it was always on his armor. Nobody was ever injured! ...Save the one time when we decided it was time to practice vanquishing gargoyles, and Dozla took it upon himself to climb a tall tree in the courtyard and leap down." L'Arachel shakes her head. "Court Troubadour Saaga quickly put him to rights, though."

"I can see him doing that," says Eirika with a giggle. "Did you dress him up as a monster?"

"We usually kept it simple, covered him with old blankets and such. His bonewalker impression was a sight to behold though, staggering around. I shall have to ask him to replicate it for all of you at some point."

"So I've been meaning to ask...Dozla's like your personal bodyguard, right? But he used to play with you as a kid?" Tana folds her legs underneath her. "Syrene used to do that for me."

"Yes, he was a member of the Palace Guard prior to my birth, and very close friends with my uncle. Uncle trusted no other more with my safety, so Dozla was appointed to guard me and me specifically. He gets time off, of course, where the other palace guards take over, and when I was small I had a nanny and a governess as well. But he is the one who has always been there for me. He is very loyal."

"He does seem to be," says Eirika. "And a capable fighter, as well."

"He is very talented!" says L'Arachel proudly. "I greatly appreciate his help and his creative input. He often comes up with brilliant ideas to spread my name across the continent and bring holy light to the world!"

"That does sound nice," says Eirika. "None of my guards ever would let me get away with - er, do, what you and Dozla do."

"He does not hesitate to speak up when concerned for my safety, but he is well aware of my abilities to defend myself and his own to support me." L'Arachel tucks away a stray curl that has fallen from her elaborate updo. "I do hope he isn't too terribly hungover tomorrow…"

"I think a lot of our army will be," says Tana with a grimace. "I saw Joshua talking my brother into drinking something...he'll be incorrigibly cranky tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow…" Eirika starts and looks out the window at the pitch-dark night sky. "We'd best get to sleep. We must depart early in the morning, after all."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. That's our fearless commander for you," says Tana. "Knows what needs to be done. Are you sure we can't get some crush talk out of you?"

"Certain of it, Tana."

"Boo."

Tana scoots over to the left side of the bed and wiggles under the covers. Eirika crawls in next to her, and L'Arachel takes the right side (after pulling some of the pins and ribbons from her hair to make it sleep-appropriate.)

"You okay with being in the middle, Eirika?" Tana asks.

"It's no problem," says Eirika. "I've shared a bed with you before, after all."

L'Arachel can feel Eirika's body shift as she speaks, her shoulder and arm flush with L'Arachel's. Joshua's teasing words from earlier in the night come back to haunt her: _So you_ do _have a thing for her..._

L'Arachel curls onto her side with her back to Eirika to give the latter some privacy. It suddenly feels terribly warm in the small inn room, though.

"Night, you two," says Tana from the other side.

"Goodnight," Eirika responds.

"Yes, goodnight!" L'Arachel chimes in.

Silence falls for only a moment before Tana breaks it. "Do you think Marisa liked my story in the tavern back there? I actually got her to laugh."

"I'm impressed she's been speaking to you," says Eirika. "I've hardly heard her say a word, and never to anyone who isn't part of her mercenary troupe."

"It took awhile, and it wasn't easy, but...I think we're friends now," says Tana proudly. "She's really nice, just shy, and a little awkward. Also very cute."

"Tana..." Eirika sighs.

"What? Some of us are open about our feelings. I'll ask her out once things have settled down a little. I think doing it now, when we've only just become friends, might freak her out."

"Well, good luck then, I suppose," says Eirika, her voice tired. "May we sleep now?"

"Yeah, okay, sorry. Goodnight."

Quiet falls, for real this time. Tana's words have put L'Arachel on edge - she feels as though her ears are perked to every sound. She can hear Eirika shifting behind her, and the soft sound of her breathing. Frankly, L'Arachel has no idea how she is expected to sleep tonight.

She must have slept, though, because L'Arachel awakens to the sunrise peeking through the inn window. Something is wrapped around her. Carefully, L'Arachel shifts onto her back and turns her head to the left.

Eirika has curled around her from behind, her arms twined around L'Arachel's waist. She is asleep, her eyes closed, her breath gentle and even. She looks tranquil and peaceful.

"Aww," comes a whisper from L'Arachel's other side, and L'Arachel turns her head to see Tana, awake and rummaging through her bag. "That's sweet. She's never done that to me before. Maybe you're just really comforting or something."

L'Arachel manages a tiny nod, careful not to jostle Eirika. She fears her rapidly beating heart will give her away, though. The awkwardness aside, though...with Eirika wrapped around her, L'Arachel feels somehow warm. Safe. Secure. She hadn't realized she was lacking those things until this moment.

A few minutes pass, and Eirika's eyes slowly open. She takes a moment to take in her surroundings, and then her face turns beet red as she relinquishes her hold on L'Arachel and springs backwards across the bed. "M-my apologies! I had no idea - "

"It is fine, Eirika," says L'Arachel, though she knows her face is red too. "You seem to have slept well. That's good, we've got a lot of ground to cover today." The inane conversation seems to tumble from her lips automatically. "The road can be so tiring, after all."

"Er. Yes. I did sleep well." Eirika sits up, rubbing the last of sleep from her eyes. Her blush has not faded. "I'll...I'll just go get ready then."

Tana waves. "Morning, sleepyheads! You guys looked adorable. I'm gonna go make sure everyone's up and getting ready to go, okay, Commander Eirika?"

"Yes...yes, that would be very helpful. Thank you, Tana." Eirika scrambles out of the bed, tripping over her feet somewhat as she picks up her bag and scurries behind the curtain to change.

L'Arachel feels as if the sun has left the room when Eirika is no longer holding her. She certainly does have some sort of feelings for Eirika, beyond mere attraction to her undeniable beauty. There is no more insisting it isn't there. But such things, at this time, are foolish. As she said to Joshua, now is not the time. L'Arachel busies herself with picking the last of Eirika and Tana's handiwork from her curls, trying to ignore the pressing memory at the base of her mind of how peaceful, how _right_ , those last few minutes had felt.

\---

That morning, although a bit puffy-eyed due to staying up so late, Tana, Eirika, and L'Arachel (hair set to rights) join the rest of the army to continue the march to Renais Castle. The villagers send them off with many tears and demanding promises that the battle would end safely, and Eirika clasps each of their hands in turn before the army departs.

Many of the army's members are overtired and squinting at the sun, with Dozla claiming "a slight headache," and wincing at loud noises, while Rennac simply refuses to speak and keeps his hands clamped firmly over his own ears, so the march is largely quiet. L'Arachel notes that Natasha and Joshua are talking quietly together throughout the march, springing apart when others look at them, and feels a sense of pride. At least _something_ productive came from that conversation.

L'Arachel avoids dwelling on the previous night's events, instead focusing on the road - she does so for that day, and the next several, as Renais Castle approaches. She makes friendly conversation with everyone, she jabs at Rennac when he misbehaves, she jokes with Tana and Dozla, but she remains as singleminded as she can manage - Eirika is depending on her, the army depends on her, and the battle ahead will be a difficult one. This is not the time for foolish flights of fancy, no matter how deep they feel.

She can still feel Eirika's breath on her neck when she closes her eyes, but by the time the turrets of Renais castle are visible in the distance, L'Arachel has largely put that night in the tavern out of her mind.

\---

Before long, they arrive at their destination - practically upon Renais Castle's doorstep, concealed by the nearby woods. The army is bustling as everyone prepares for the next day's battle - everyone is excited, and invigorated, running to and fro and chattering with eagerness. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air - anticipation of finally freeing Renais after several long months of toil. With no tasks assigned to her, L'Arachel takes up her staff and resumes her hero practice upon a (dastardly!) nearby tree. (After all, she hasn't done so in quite some time, having been busy with the war and all, and that simply wouldn't do before such a significant battle!)

L'Arachel darts around the tree. "Take that! And that and that and that!" She punctuates each word with a blow.

Eirika's voice comes from behind her. "L'Arachel? What are you doing?"

"I'm practicing!" L'Arachel explains, turning to face her. Eirika still looks puzzled, so L'Arachel elaborates. "I want to be prepared for when those fiends next show up. You never can tell where or when they'll appear, after all. And if they were to appear and I were unable to prepare a magical attack…" She holds up her makeshift weapon. "Well, I'd like to be ready to whack them with this staff of mine. It's very stoutly made, you know. Uncle had it commissioned specially."

"Ah…don't you think that's a bit, well, dangerous? Perhaps you should stop." Eirika smiles as she lays a hand on L'Arachel's arm. "If monsters appear when I am around, I promise I'll come to your aid."

"I appreciate your gallantry, but that's simply no good, Eirika." L'Arachel shakes her head. "You know how those monsters can be. I insist that I be able to hold my own, relying on nothing but my skills."

Eirika sits down upon a nearby log. "I've been curious about something, L'Arachel…Why are you so obsessed with fighting monsters?"

L'Arachel sits beside her. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts, and Eirika waits patiently, her eyes never leaving L'Arachel's face.

"…My parents were kind people," L'Arachel says at last. "I would be like them if I am able. My home of Rausten is so near to Darkling Woods. We experienced many sudden raids. My parents took it upon themselves to defend our people against the monsters."

Eirika's face falls. "I had no idea…"

"Yes, but my parents are gone now. I've been told that they passed away when I was but an infant. They…gave their lives defending many helpless people."

"I'm so sorry," says Eirika - and she does look truly sorry, her playful demeanor gone. "I didn't…"

"Oh, you needn't be sad, I would not want for that," says L'Arachel quickly, desperate to make Eirika's eyes brighten again. "No, it's wonderful that they gave their lives battling that filth. I was so young that I do not remember their faces, if I must be honest. However, that does not diminish the pride I feel for what they've done."

"Don't you feel lonely at the loss of your parents?" Eirika asks quietly. Her gaze is intense, even with the sorrow in her eyes.

"No!" says L'Arachel hurriedly, turning her face away as embarrassment rises up in her chest. "Not at all! What do you take me for? Some kind of weakling?"

"No, I see that you are strong indeed, L'Arachel," Eirika answers. There is something indescribable in her voice, something L'Arachel cannot put into words.

"I should say so. But…" L'Arachel looks back at Eirika. "Would you not say that you are strong, too, Eirika? Your father stayed in his castle, fighting the forces of Grado. He had a noble death, don't you think? Your father was a great man. You must be quite proud of him."

"Well…yes." Eirika fiddles with her bracelet. "He refused to take even one step in retreat from the advancing Grado soldiers. But still…I mean, I…I would have thought no less of him if he had fled. Even if he were no longer a brave king…still…" Eirika closes her eyes. "I would be happier if he were still alive."

"Eirika…" L'Arachel places a hand on Eirika's wrist. "I do understand you. Everyone would tell me of my parents' bravery, of their honor…but I will never see them. I will never know them for myself. Oh, what I would give if I could have met them…just once."

Eirika's eyes open, and they lock with L'Arachel's. "L'Arachel…"

"Th-that is quite enough of that, then!" L'Arachel straightens her back. "Now is not the time to be sorrowful! It is the time for action! We march on Renais Castle in mere hours, do we not?"

"We do…" Eirika stares towards the castle. "I...Perhaps that is why I sought you out. It seems that, when I am frightened, I draw nearer to you."

"There isn't any need to be frightened, Eirika. I have offered many prayers so that we might win this battle. With my seraphic blessing, why, we needn't fear a thing! Saint Latona will see us through unharmed, I am certain of it!"

"I see…" To L'Arachel's relief, a small smile returns to Eirika's lips. "That is a comfort indeed."

"There, see? It is already working. To bring a smile to your face is a great gift indeed! I am delighted to have been able to do so."

"Thank you, L'Arachel. As always. You...you are a great comfort to me. I...I am trying to remain strong, so that others who look to me for courage will see it. But I cannot help but be nervous. This is the castle I grew up in, the place I was born...the place my father died. I have not seen it since that awful day. I fear I will pass through those doors, and be too afraid to take another step. I fear...I fear I am not strong enough to do this. To do what must be done. To spill blood within the halls of my own home...to liberate my father's throne...if I falter, we will fail. It is...it is a tremendous burden."

"I understand, Eirika." L'Arachel lowers her voice. "Truly, I do. I strive...I strive to be a beacon of light, always, you know? It is my sacred duty. But I would be lying if I said it did not sometimes feel like a terrific weight. It is not always easy to smile. But when I smile, I can make others smile as well. As you did just now...I vowed some years ago that I would not lose my light, no matter the darkness. For in doing so, I can light the way for others. I know this is a dark day for you, but you needn't fear. For as long as you need me, I will be at your side, and I will be your light."

Eirika draws in a deep breath. "Thank you...L'Arachel. That is...a great comfort to me. More than you know. But you know...you needn't simply give endlessly of yourself. If you need me, I am here for you as well."

"Shall we make a pact, then?" says L'Arachel. Her tone is light, but her words serious. "We shall give each other strength, in the coming days and weeks. Then neither will be alone, and we will both be stronger."

"Yes." Eirika is smiling fully now, as she turns to face L'Arachel. Her eyes are the color of the midday sky. "That sounds lovely. We will...we will be each other's light. You have already made me feel so much stronger, L'Arachel. As though, with you at my side...I could accomplish anything I set my mind to."

"Then I have done my job well, I suppose! Another stunning victory for the beautiful princess of peerless beauty!" L'Arachel nods triumphantly. "And, ah...Eirika?"

"Yes?"

"I...you make me feel stronger, too."

Eirika's smile is warm enough to melt ice, to light a fire, to replace the sun. "I am glad. You have been so kind to me, I only wish to return the favor. Thank you for speaking with me. I should see to the battle preparations." She bows briefly to L'Arachel before standing and walking away, back towards the tent. L'Arachel watches her go, thoughtful.

That night, when everyone has retired, L'Arachel rummages through her bag before withdrawing a small, cloth-lined box at the bottom. She'd nearly forgotten she had it, truth be told. L'Arachel opens the box's lid carefully. The ruby her uncle had given her shines brilliantly when she opens it, warm and red. It reminds her of Eirika. It seems many beautiful things do now, like the sea, and the sky, and the sun.

_It was given as a gift, from each of our direct ancestors, to the person they most cherished, and wished to spend their lives with. It is said to bless a couple, so that they never would fall out of love._

_We will be each other's light. You have already made me feel so much stronger, L'Arachel. As though, with you at my side...I could accomplish anything I set my mind to._

After another moment's thought, L'Arachel closes the small box once more and slips it into the inside pocket of her dress.

\---

The army approaches Castle Renais the next morning. The air feels as though it a bowstring, drawn taut, just about to snap and fire. L'Arachel stands just behind Eirika and Ephraim as the twins approach their home, the morning sun throwing it into sharp relief, Seth, Innes, and Tana at their sides. For a moment, they all simply stare.

Eirika reaches for Ephraim's hand. He clutches it grimly, like a lifeline.

Castle Renais looks _wrong_. L'Arachel has never seen it in its full glory, but she is certain it was not like this. The grounds are overgrown, most windows barred or boarded shut. A single Grado flag flies from the tallest tower, but there is no other decoration. The gate is tightly locked, and there is little sign of any life at all. But those are not the things that draw L'Arachel's attention the most - the castle emanates a dark, wicked aura unlike any she has ever felt before, far stronger than the one that touched her in the Jehanna Hall throne room. Something sick and twisted lurks within, something that has tainted the castle's very stone with its evil. L'Arachel feels as though she is going to be ill.

"Brother…" Eirika whispers. "What...what has happened to our home? What has happened to Castle Renais?"

Ephraim shakes his head. "How did it come to be so ruined? So desolated?" He turns to Seth, wordlessly seeking answers.

Seth's voice is somber. "Spies report that the castle is being held by the traitor Orson."

"Orson…" Ephraim closes his eyes, and Eirika squeezes his hand. "In retrospect, I realize he's been acting odd for a while now. He seemed so…dispirited."

"His wife passed away some six months back," Seth answers, eyes still fixed on the castle. "The loss may have been too much for his mind to bear. His love and devotion for his wife were well known among the knights."

"I knew of his wife, but nothing of her death," says Ephraim bitterly. "Perhaps, if I had paid more attention, and made the effort to know my own men...but I was so absorbed in the glory and entertainment of battle that I neglected to consider their feelings. What a fool I was."

"Don't blame yourself," says Eirika. "I doubt there was anything you could have done."

"I agree, Princess. If Orson intended to betray Renais, it was unlikely Prince Ephraim would have been able to sway him. Now, he sits alone in the king's former bedchambers. He makes no effort to govern. No one is allowed to enter the chambers, and he takes no meals."

Eirika's voice shakes. "What could he possibly be doing?"

"I do not know. The spies had no insight into his behavior. He does nothing to deal with the dark creatures and bandits roaming the land. Reports say all of Renais is engulfed in chaos. Region after region is revolting, and Orson's reign is already crumbling. Left alone, it may very well collapse under the weight of its own neglect."

"We saw some of that on our way here...so many monsters, both human and not." Eirika lowers her head. "The entire country may…"

"We cannot allow the situation to reach that point," says Ephraim. "We're going home, Eirika. We're going to the castle."

"I hear you, Ephraim." Eirika lifts her head, her gaze steely, lightning crackling in her eyes. "Today is the day we take our country back."

The little dragon girl, Myrrh, comes up to them and tugs shyly on the hem of Ephraim's sleeve. He draws her aside to talk to her, and L'Arachel approaches Eirika. Before L'Arachel can speak, however, Eirika does first.

"Will you be at my side in this coming battle, L'Arachel?"

"Of course," says L'Arachel softly. "You needn't ask."

"...Then I have nothing to fear." Eirika lifts her gaze to look at the purple-and-black Grado flag, fluttering in the dawn. "Thank you, L'Arachel. Ephraim, are we prepared?"

"Yes. On your signal, sister." Ephraim nudges Myrrh behind him. "It is time."

Eirika draws a deep breath, and when she shouts, it is the only sound in the still air. "Sir Orson! Grado Army! I am Princess Eirika, and I come leading the combined forces of Renais, Frelia, Jehanna, Rausten, and the Grado Rebels. I intend to liberate this castle in the name of my deceased father, and return it to the hands of my brother, the rightful king of Renais. The capital of Grado has already fallen. This is the final castle held by the Grado Army. Now, I offer you mercy. Now is the time to surrender, and I will see you are not harmed and treated fairly. If you do not accept, then we will have no choice but to attack with the full might of our armies. What is your answer?"

At first, there is no response, only the chill, eerie silence. And then soldiers begin to pour onto the parapets, readying bows, and the castle creaks to life as the Grado Army mobilizes.

"They're attacking," says Ephraim grimly. "Hardly a surprise."

"It is what I expected," Eirika responds. "But they knew we were here, regardless. They deserved one chance. I gave it to them. Now…" She turns to face her army. "As one, then! Today, we fight to reclaim Renais!"

An answering cheer, and then the battle begins. Arrows begin to rain down from the ramparts, but on Eirika's signal, the armor knights lift their shields as one, harmlessly deflecting the wooden shafts. Behind their sturdy backs, Innes and a handful of other archers and mages return fire. Tana flies up and makes quick work of most of the first wave, the Fini Shield taken from Valter gleaming on her arm, and behind her the other fliers clean up the rest. Meanwhile, Dozla and Garcia lead the group of soldiers lifting the battering ram against the castle's front doors.

The doors, and the first group of Grado's defenses, fall quickly, and Eirika leads the charge inside. It is frantic, the air choked with the sound of clashing steel and the stench of blood. Eirika and Ephraim lead the charge, rapier and lance alike whirling through the enemies in their path, a dark dance for their own lives. L'Arachel switches rapidly between staff and tome, healing injuries and slaying foes in equal measure, and through it all, does not leave Eirika's side.

A stray fire spell sets a painting aflame, an arrow pierces a window and shatters it, a body falls and bleeds over a rug. This is Eirika's home, the place she loved, and each bit of damage squeezes at L'Arachel's heart. As Theia's hooves pound against the bloodied cobblestones, L'Arachel wonders about which of these halls Eirika once walked daily, which of the shredded paintings was her favorite, which rooms she played in as a child, which shattered vases she filled with flowers, which happy memories are being turned to ash, and her stomach feels sour. It feels unfair, unjust, wicked, like a form of theft - but Eirika doesn't flinch once, even as she ducks behind a bust to avoid a soldier's lance and it shatters, even as her own blade rips through a tapestry to take down a mage looming over Ephraim.

"Orson is holed up in the throne room!" Seth shouts to the twins. "But if we head straight there, we'll likely be cornered! Someone needs to stay behind and lead troops to guard the chamber!"

"Right!" Eirika slashes through an archer. "I'll take Orson."

"Eirika, you shouldn't - " Ephraim stabs another. "He's too dangerous. I'll - "

"I am the commander," Eirika responds. "If I can have him surrender, the battle is ours."

"It is unlikely he will do so," says Seth. "The man is stubborn as an ox. He'll die before he leaves the throne."

"Then so it shall be," says Eirika. "L'Arachel! Tana! Bring your squads with me! Ephraim, you and Innes block the west corridor, Seth, the south! Let no others break through! Rennac and Colm, see if you can get those doors unlocked before the enemy does!"

There's a chorus of responses, and Eirika takes the stairs to the throne room two at a time before throwing the doors open.

The man L'Arachel supposes is Orson is seated on the throne, but she does not get a good look at him - for when the doors open, a group of knights stationed within charge towards the group. Eirika's squad makes short work of them, and they all fall within minutes.

Orson only gets to his feet once the last man lies bleeding on the ground. The general swings his leg over a nearby horse and mounts it. His eyes are dull and unfocused, and without the distraction of his men, L'Arachel can feel the malefic aura emanating from him. It is far more powerful than it is elsewhere in the castle. Something horrific has been done by this man, or been close to this man, and the stench of it lingers about him.

Without warning, Orson suddenly charges Eirika, who leaps sideways. Orson pivots around, his horse's hooves skidding on the throne room tiles. He holds a spear ready, but his eyes retain that blank, empty look. L'Arachel can tell his mind is elsewhere.

He strikes again, and this time Eirika parries the blow. L'Arachel takes advantage of the opening and fires, and Orson is forced to pull back to avoid the blast, which hits a banner hanging on the wall and rips harshly it in half. Tana swoops in from behind, hitting Orson hard across the back. He swings at her and makes contact with her arm; she gives a cry of pain, but stays aloft, flying up towards the ceiling.

L'Arachel hurries in Tana's direction, beginning a healing spell. Tana struggles to grip her lance, her arm too badly injured. L'Arachel's staff closes the gash, but can only do so much in so little time.  

"You should pull back," L'Arachel tells Tana. "You need more serious treatment if you're going to use a lance. Leave this battle to our noble selves!"

Tana sighs, but nods. She sheathes her lance with a grunt and flies towards the exit, nursing her wounded arm, and L'Arachel returns to the battle.

Meanwhile, Eirika has readied herself, and leapt at Orson. She strikes at his horse's legs, and it whinnies, buckling, and tumbles to its knees, forcing Orson to dismount. He stands at the base of the throne, spear held ready, and still, he seems as though he is not even in the room with them, his face distant and expressionless.

L'Arachel fires once more, and her light makes contact with the hand gripping his lance; he gives a shout of pain, and the spear flies free from his fingers and slides across the cobblestones to the far side of the room. Orson draws the sword hanging at his side, but holds it awkwardly, his hand injured from L'Arachel's light magic.

Eirika rushes him, and their weapons clash together with a horrible shriek of metal. "Orson…" she gasps out, muscles straining as she pushes back against him, "why would you betray us?"

"Princess Eirika...if anyone could understand my feelings, it might be you," Orson grunts. The two break the hold, leaping apart, and circle each other. While Eirika's eyes are alert, flitting back and forth as she looks for openings, Orson is gazing past her. "For the one I love...I betrayed everything. My country, my lord and master...everything…you understand, don't you?" He lunges at her suddenly, and Eirika barely catches the blow on her own blade. "We are one and the same, you and I. If the one you held dearest needed you, and that was your only recourse...you would throw everything away, wouldn't you? As I have..."

"...No," Eirika hisses out, teeth gritted. "I...would not. For...the one I love...would never ask...such a thing of me."

"Eirika, move!" L'Arachel calls, and Eirika lunges sideways under Orson's blade, and L'Arachel's blast of light hits Orson in the center of his chest, directly over his heart. He staggers backwards with a cry of pain as his breastplate burns away. Eirika springs forward, plunging her blade into his stomach and pulling it free again in a swift movement, almost like a dance. Orson's sword clatters to the ground as his body collapses in a heap at Eirika's feet.

Orson gasps, his eyes filled with tears, as he stares unseeingly at nothing. "Monica…" He does not speak, or move, again.

Eirika draws a heavy sigh as she straightens.

"What a pitiful man," says L'Arachel quietly. "What...what was he talking about?"

"I don't know," Eirika responds, her voice heavy. "But, first…" She approaches the throne that was once her father's. "I hereby claim this throne in the name of the kingdom of Renais. We've won."

\---

"It seems you taught him a good lesson," says Ephraim, looking down at Orson's body. "Did he say why he turned traitor?"

"Not explicitly." Eirika is looking anywhere but at the body. "He said something about doing it for his love, but…he seemed quite mad. I don't know what he meant by any of it." She takes the fallen, half-shredded banner that had been hanging from the throne room wall and throws it over Orson's body. "Just looking at him makes me sick...Ephraim, please have someone take his body away, as soon as possible."

"Seth is ensuring the castle is fully under our control, and then he'll bring someone along," says Ephraim.

As if summoned by his words, Seth enters the room. "Prince Ephraim, Princess Eirika. The castle has been secured. And…" He hesitates. L'Arachel cannot read the look on his face.

"What is it?" Ephraim narrows his eyes.

Seth averts his gaze. "...This way. This is the room Orson was holed up in. Your...your father's chambers."

He leads them down a hallway, and then into an open-air corridor. Eirika makes a soft noise of pain, and Ephraim grits his teeth. L'Arachel realizes the lands framing the corridor were once a garden, but now all that remains is a messy, tangled overgrowth of vines and dead weeds. Everything is gray and brown.

"This is…the castle garden. _Our_ garden." Ephraim shakes his head. "Did they not maintain it at all?"

Eirika crosses her arms, her fingers biting into her own skin. "It's...awful. This was our favorite place when we were children, and now it's...After everything I've seen, it shouldn't matter, but...this hits close to home."

"I am certain it can be regrown," says L'Arachel softly. "Given time, and effort."

Eirika gives a small, terse nod. "Yes. In the end, it's not important. Lead on, Seth."

Seth continues through the corridor and they turn down a few more halls, eventually reaching one in the very back of the palace - the royal family's living quarters. He opens a grand door into a dark chamber. The first thing that hits L'Arachel is the wave of dark magic, crashing into her, turning her stomach, an aura worse than any she has ever felt. The second is the stench.

A voice echoes from the darkness. "…Darling…"

It takes all of their eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but illuminated in the shaft of light from the open door, a figure in an ornate gown is seated on a canopy bed. And a moment later, L'Arachel realizes, and nearly retches.

Ephraim gasps. "You, you're Orson's…"

Eirika has her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide and frozen.

The thing speaks. "Darling. Darling. Darling…darling…" it continues, its voice never wavering in inflection or pitch: perfectly flat, perfectly neutral, perfectly inhuman.

"…What?!" Ephraim bursts out.

"This...is horrible…" Eirika manages.

"This same magic was used to control Emperor Vigarde," Ephraim's voice is laced with anger. "She's already dead, and her corpse was used to…"

"This...the magic used to do this...it's…" L'Arachel can't finish. Eirika is shaking, Ephraim's hands are clenched into fists, and both of them are frozen in horror.

"Who?" Eirika's voice is barely above a whisper. "Who could…”

"You needn't look any longer...Eirika...let's go outside." Ephraim casts L'Arachel a glance, and she understands, putting an arm around Eirika's shoulders.

"Come, Eirika. There isn't...there isn't any need to watch this." L'Arachel gently guides Eirika out the door, arms around her. "Let's go."

They leave, and Seth and Ephraim remain. A voice echoes after them, "Darling...darling...darling…"

"That was…" Eirika manages. "It was...it was…"

"I know, dear. I know." L'Arachel guides Eirika to a sofa well away from the chamber.

"It was evil," Eirika whispers. She gulps for air. "How could he...how could that monster...that wasn't life. That was wrong. He took her body, and he made a monster...how could he do that to her? Why would anyone...to someone they love…" There is anger in her eyes now, burning. "That isn't love. That's possession. That's...it's wrong. It's awful!"

"I agree with you, Eirika," says L'Arachel softly, holding her close. "He was desperate enough to have his wife back that he refused to see what was in front of his eyes. He was willing to cling to this shadow of her, to treat as a doll. It was wrong."

"He said we were the _same_ ," Eirika hisses, her voice laced with venom L'Arachel has rarely heard from her. "He said I would understand...I don't! I would never! Not to anyone! He's evil! Truly evil!"

L'Arachel simply holds her as she shakes - not with sobs, but with rage - until the storm passes, and Eirika is simply resting against her, her breath harsh but steady. A few moments later, Ephraim appears before them, and Eirika starts back upright.

"Everything has been dealt with," says Ephraim. "Seth is...cleaning up. We will...we will burn the contents of that chamber, and have the walls and floors purified by priests. You needn't dwell on it any longer."

Eirika takes a deep breath. "I understand. We ought to return to the throne room."

They do, in a solemn procession. Neither twin so much as glances at the ruined garden this time. When they enter the throne room, Orson's body has been tidied away somewhere; for the best, L'Arachel thinks, as she is uncertain what the twins would do if left in a room with him.

Both siblings gaze at the throne. "We've finally made it back," says Ephraim at last.

"Mmm…" Eirika nods. "We can repair the castle, and what was stolen, we can do without. But the wounds and suffering inflicted on the people of Renais…"

"It's too late to undo their pain. Once I become king, I must set our country right." Ephraim gives a rueful smile. "I doubt the people will give me a warm reception, though. I did abandon them. All I can do is try to win back their trust, no matter how long it takes…"

Eirika opens her mouth, but just then, Seth enters the throne room. "Princess Eirika, Prince Ephraim. You should look outside."

"Outside?" Ephraim frowns, but the group steps outside, out onto a balcony.

There is a crowd gathered outside the castle, a cheering crowd. " _Prince Ephraim! Princess Eirika! The king has returned! Our king! Our princess! Glory to Renais! Long live King Ephraim! Long live Princess Eirika!_ "

The twins simply stare.

"…They're not cheering for you," says Seth. "They cheer because Orson's misrule is at an end. They cheer the possibility of a better tomorrow, not the deeds we did today. But how will the hearts of the people move tomorrow and the next day? That is for you to decide."

"I will not let their hopes and dreams be shattered again," Ephraim answers. "I will be king. Like my father before me, I will dedicate myself to their happiness."

"And I will do so as well, Ephraim. All that I can do. Let us lead this country, and this continent, towards restoration," Eirika vows. "Together."

\---

Back in the throne room, the twins stand facing the throne once more. The army has regrouped, many setting up for the night throughout the castle. L'Arachel, Innes, Tana, Joshua, and Seth have all gathered to watch.

"So we're supposed to raise our bracelets over our heads, right?" says Eirika. "To find the Sacred Stone?"

"Let's try it." Ephraim lifts his right arm, and Eirika does the same. A moment's pause, and suddenly the bracelets both begin to glow with a bright, shimmering light. There is a great rumbling, and the throne of Renais shakes slightly, then moves slowly to the side, revealing a set of stairs beneath it.

"So this is where it was kept," says Eirika, lowering her arm. "The Sacred Stone of Renais...We'll go retrieve it now."

The twins descend the staircase, and Seth follows them. Quiet falls in the throne room, other than the soft sound of Joshua reflexively flipping a coin on his thumb.

"Will you _cut that out?"_ Innes finally hisses at Joshua. "You're driving me mad!"

Joshua raises both hands in a surrendering gesture. "What? Relax. They'll be fine. It's just a basement. They'll be back soon."

"I," Innes growled, a vein throbbing in his temple, "am _perfectly_ relaxed."

"Hush, Innes," Tana chides. "It's okay to be stressed. We're all a little stressed. But don't be cranky about it."

Innes huffs and folds his arms, pouting.

"I've never seen a Sacred Stone," Tana muses. "Is it all sparkly and magical?"

"Don't be childish, Tana - "

"Not really," L'Arachel cuts across Innes. "At least, Rausten's isn't. It's deceptively simple, but quite lovely. I assume the other countries' stones are similar."

"I think I saw ours once, but I was really little," says Joshua. "But it was red, I'm pretty sure. It felt...special, though. Not just like magic, but...really important, somehow. Like it was calling to me."

"According to my studies, descendants of each of the Five Heroes feel the same way about their respective stones," says L'Arachel. "As we are duty-bound to protect them, it is only sensible that we would be naturally drawn to them."

"Heh, yeah...Duty-bound." Joshua sighs. "So much for that."

"I apologize, Prince Joshua, I didn't mean - "

"Don't worry about it." He waves a hand. "Nothing you can do about it now."

"Our stone got smashed, too…" Tana laments. "I wish I could've seen it. You never saw it either, did you, Innes?"

"No," Innes grumbles. "Now shut up so I can concentrate."

"On _what_?" Tana demands. Innes has no answer for her.

There is a sound from the staircase, and the twins reemerge. Ephraim carries an elegant lance, and Eirika a lovely sword of similar make.

"What has happened?" L'Arachel starts forward. "Have you found the Sacred Stone?"

"Yes," says Eirika. She lifts her left fist, and uncurls her fingers. "Here it is…"

When she does, the dark, heavy air still hanging about Renais Castle seems to lift somewhat, and L'Arachel's stomach truly settles for the first time since laying eyes on its walls that morning. Resting in the palm of Eirika's glove is a bright, deep cyan stone, emanating a soft, magical aura. It does not call to L'Arachel the way the Rausten one did, but it is beautiful and special nonetheless.

"Wow!" L'Arachel exclaims. "It truly is spectacular. This goes some way to brighten the dark shadows that loom over us."

"Our countries' Sacred Stones have been shattered by Grado's men," says Innes. "The Stone of Renais is our last remaining weapon."

"No, it's not," L'Arachel corrects him. "You have forgotten the stone of my beloved Rausten. Remember, there were five Sacred Stones for our five nations. The Stones of Grado, Frelia, and Jehanna are gone, but hope is not. We have the Stone of Renais, after all, and that of Rausten is safe." She looks around at them all. "Our road is clear, my friends. I must guide you to Rausten."

"You're right." Eirika smiles at her. "L'Arachel, we're counting on you to lead the way."

"Of course. And you will all be welcome to stay in the palace. And, Eirika, you shall be my guest in my own private quarters! Let us be on our way." She turns towards the door leading out of the throne room.

"Er, L'Arachel? We...we aren't going to leave right away. The army needs to rest for the night," says Eirika.

"Oh! My mistake, I was so eager to show you Rausten that I forgot myself," says L'Arachel, turning back and beaming. "We will be on our way in the morning, then."

"Oh, and also...in your own private quarters?" Eirika's cheeks are beginning to color. "That's, ah…"

"Of course! You will be my most honored guest. Is there an issue?"

"No. No issue." Eirika shakes her head. "We…we should go, then. Get some rest before leaving tomorrow. It is already late afternoon."

The others file out. Joshua and Tana are giggling to each other about something, but L'Arachel barely notices. "Eirika? That sword...is it one of the Sacred Twins of Renais?"

"Ah, yes." Eirika lifts the shimmering sword in her hand, slipping the Sacred Stone into her pocket. "This is Sieglinde, Lord Siegmar's sword. Ephraim has Siegmund, his lance."

"It suits you," says L'Arachel admiringly. "Will you be wielding it?"

"Yes...I'll be saving it for when it is needed...hopefully never, but I am aware that is unlikely." Eirika sheathes Sieglinde, slinging it across her back. "L'Arachel, speaking of private quarters...I was wondering, would you accompany me to my room? I...I do not wish to enter it alone, and I think it would help me if you were there."

"Of course! I am happy to be of help." L'Arachel gestures to the door. "Lead the way, Eirika."

\---

They walk through the halls of a home turned battlefield. Most of the bodies have been cleared away, but stray weapons and bits of armor are littered everywhere they turn. Scorch marks from magic stain the walls, and several items of furniture are damaged or utterly destroyed. Eirika walks past it all without flinching, her eyes only fixed on her destination. L'Arachel doesn't speak.

Eventually, they reach the back hallway lined with elegant wooden doors. L'Arachel realizes this hallway leads to the room where Monica was kept, but refrains from comment. Eirika certainly knows that well enough. It is not those rooms they go to now, though, but a room closer to the front of the hallway.

Eirika opens the door, and the hinges creak with disuse and age as she does so. The room inside is...bare. That is all L'Arachel can think to say about it. The wardrobe doors are thrown open, the contents largely ransacked. Dressers have been opened as well, only a few nightdresses and underthings left behind, some scattered across the floor. An open jewelry box is similarly cleaned out, and a bottle of perfume has been knocked over and spilled, a sickly, flowery scent hanging heavy in the air. The rest of the furniture, including a large bed with a red and gold coverlet, is largely untouched, but coated in a thick layer of dust.

"Oh, Eirika, I'm so…" L'Arachel begins, but Eirika shakes her head.

"Please don't apologize. You've nothing to apologize for." Eirika runs a finger over edge of a well-stocked bookshelf, her fingertip coming away covered in dust. "I expected this, truth be told. That... _thing_ , it was wearing my dress. I suspect...that is what became of most of my things. They were...gifts."

"Twisted, stolen gifts," says L'Arachel bitterly.

"Yes," Eirika agrees. "The rest were most likely sold. It matters little. I've lived without all those things; I can continue doing so. They are merely possessions. It is true I cared for them, but in the end, they are simply things. There are more important things to worry about now. But...ah, this is a relief." Eirika indicates a painting hanging on her wall, and L'Arachel steps closer to look.

The painting is fairly small, only about a foot high, and rather simple, but it is of a woman with long, deep blue hair and eyes of the same color. She wears a plain white dress, and sits in a bench in a garden, framed with white lilies. She has a soft, gentle, _familiar_ smile, and is wearing shining ruby earrings - Eirika's earrings, L'Arachel realizes, as she would recognize them anywhere.

"Is this...your mother, Eirika?"

"Yes." Eirika carefully wipes dust off the painting's frame. "There aren't many paintings of her...there was a wedding portrait hanging in Father's chambers, but Seth mentioned it seems to have been destroyed. But this, at least, is untouched. She sat for it early in her pregnancy with us. Father gave it to me when I was having nightmares. He said she would watch over me as I slept. I...I never knew her. She died giving birth to...us."

"I am sorry."

"It's all right. I never knew her. I...try not to speak of her. Because...because it upset my father so, you see. I often forget I even had a mother. I never knew what it was like to have one, after all." Eirika turns away from the painting.

Her words remind L'Arachel of an earlier conversation. "Eirika…Please hold for a moment."

"What is it, L'Arachel?"

"About what we were discussing earlier…" L'Arachel twists her hands together. "I would not want you to get the wrong idea. I was not saying I was lonely because my parents were dead. I am not that weak, you know? I have never even…cried…when thinking of my parents."

"I know, L'Arachel," Eirika's eyes are gentle as a breeze. "You are a very strong person. We are lucky to have you with us."

It is her words, her praise, and the fluttering feeling that rises in L'Arachel's chest when she hears them, that gives her certainty, and with it, courage. "I hope you do not think this all too sudden, but…" L'Arachel reaches into her pocket and withdraws the small box containing her family's ruby. She clicks it open. "Here. Look at this."

"What's this…?"

"This ruby has been in Rausten for generations. It is a valuable gem. I would be honored if…" L'Arachel swallows, the rest of her words disappearing down her throat. She cannot tell her. This isn't the time, this is too soon, too sudden.

She might not feel the same.

"...I would like for you to have it."

"What?" Eirika's head jerks up. "No, I couldn't! It's far too precious to accept…"

"No, I mean it. Please, accept this as a gift. Here." L'Arachel removes the ruby from its box and places it in Eirika's palm, curling Eirika's fingers around it, as they had curled around the Sacred Stone minutes before. "I won't allow you to refuse."

"L'Arachel…Thank you. I will treasure it." Eirika smiles, and sun lights up the dusty room. "I so wish I had something to give you in return…" She looks hopelessly around the barren room, her face falling.

"You needn't feel that way," says L'Arachel hastily. "Here, I've an idea…once we've put an end to all the monstrosities in our lands…invite me to Renais. Does this plan please you?"

"Yes…certainly." Eirika's smile returns. "Of course."

"Then we are agreed!" L'Arachel lifts a finger in a false display of sternness. "Now, you had better not go dying in battle on me. Not until then, at any rate. Do I have your word?"

"Yes…let us both live long enough to look back on this time." Eirika looks down at their hands, joined around the ruby. "I am sure that, when we do look back, it will be as the best of friends."

L'Arachel releases her grasp. "Certainly. Nothing could tear me from your side, Eirika. Nothing at all."

"L'Arachel?" Eirika holds up the ruby; it shines in the dusty light. "I…"

"What is it?"

"Ah...it's just...red is my favorite color," says Eirika.

"I know," L'Arachel responds softly.

Eirika lowers the gem; the two stare at each other, their faces only inches apart. A moment passes, and another, and -

The door bangs open. "Oh, Princess Eirika, there you are!" A young soldier comes hurrying into the room. "Prince Ephraim just sent me! He says he's found something you'll want to see, Your Highness. He's waiting in the stables."

"Ah...yes, thank you, Franz. I'll be right there." Eirika takes a step back from L'Arachel, who feels the chill of the abandoned room rush into her bones again. "L'Arachel, would you care to join me?"

"Of course! To the stables!" L'Arachel's voice shakes only slightly, a fact on which she prides herself. "Lead the way!"

Eirika gives her bedroom one last quick look before following Franz out of the room. L'Arachel notes her slipping the ruby into her pocket.

When L'Arachel and Eirika arrive at the castle stables, Ephraim is standing in the stableyard, flanked by two gleaming white horses. Eirika lets out a cry of delight (a beautiful sound, and it feels like it has been too long since L'Arachel heard it, in all of the day's misery) and rushes towards him. "You found them! They're safe!"

"Yes, and it seems they were decently taken care of. Some Grado soldier took a fancy to them, perhaps." Ephraim is stroking the mane of the slightly larger horse. "I've found their saddles, as well - a bit dusty, but they'll be usable again with a good cleaning."

Eirika rubs the nose of the other horse. "Freyja! It's good to see you again." She turns back to L'Arachel. "Er, these are my and Ephraim's horses - Freyja and Freyr. We've had them since they were foals."

"It's lovely to meet them," says L'Arachel. "They have a noble bearing that well suits their riders!"

"There hadn't been time to retrieve them when we fled...I'd thought them lost," says Eirika softly, gently stroking Freyja's mane. Freyja closes her eyes.

"I had assumed so as well. Freyr was recovering from a minor injury the day we left for Grado, and in my haste to make it to the battlefield, I simply left him behind. Just as I left you all behind." Ephraim shakes his head. Freyr noses him and nickers. "He seems to have forgiven me, though."

"As have we, brother," says Eirika. "Should we bring them along to Rausten? They are trained for battle, after all, and would most likely be an asset."

"Agreed," says Ephraim. "I'll see to getting those saddles prepared. After that...we should probably all get some rest."

"You're right." Eirika gives Freyja's nose a final stroke. "I should go ask Seth about a few things..."

"And I really ought to see if I am needed in the healers' tent," says L'Arachel. "I shall see you later, then?"

"Yes, later." Eirika gives a quick bow and hurries off back into the castle.

\---

Rather then the healing tent, Father Moulder has set up camp in the Renais castle infirmary. It is not especially well stocked, but it has walls and a roof, and the army has moved its healing supplies inside. Natasha and Moulder are hard at work, neither acknowledging L'Arachel as she enters.

A few casualties were suffered in the war, those bodies placed aside and covered with sheets, but most of the injured can be saved. L'Arachel busies herself. When she is caught up in healing, her thoughts rarely wander, and truth be told, she fears them wandering. The damaged castle, the blankness in Orson's eyes, and above all the spectre dressed in Eirika's gown keep drifting through her mind, try as she might to tamp it down - but focusing on bandages, staves, and salves keeps it away. Here, at least, she is capable of fixing things.

Except, that is, when she can't. A few men do slip away, despite all their best efforts. L'Arachel clasps their hands, smiles, makes light jokes, until they are gone. Then she closes their eyes, performs the blessings, gently covers their bodies. It is never enjoyable. It is never even routine. But she is no longer a child with blood on her hands, kneeling in the Rausten courtyard grass. She can bear it now. She can weep later, when her work is done.

Eventually, her duties are complete, and L'Arachel departs the infirmary, rather exhausted. A booming, familiar voice greets her. "There you are, Princess L'Arachel!"

"Ah...hello, Dozla." L'Arachel manages a somewhat wan smile. "It is good to see you well."

"Right as rain, Princess! A bit tired, though. It seems you are as well." Dozla falls into step with her as they walk towards the barracks where the army is staying.

"That is true." L'Arachel gives a heavy sigh. "It has been...quite a long day, has it not? We have had our victory, and yet, the castle is still full of heavy hearts. It is...sad."

"That's true," Dozla muses. "That's something you learn about war, Princess...there's more to it than just the battles. You can win the battles, with your big muscles and your powerful weapons, but there's still more to be done, more damage to fix. I've picked that up over the years...whether it's fighting monsters or men, there's always scars left behind, and they take a long, long time, and a lot of work, to heal."

"I suppose you are right, Dozla." They walk past a shattered urn, the pieces crunching under their boots. "It is true...even though she has reclaimed her castle, Princess Eirika's father still will not come back to life. Nor will the suffering and deaths of her people be mitigated, or her own pain from the horrors she has seen and endured. It is terribly tragic."

"It is," Dozla agrees. His tone is more solemn than L'Arachel has ever heard. "But, Princess, there's no need for despair. When we despair, everyone else does too. That's why it's important to keep finding strength, wherever it is, so it can be shared. I find strength in my work, in protecting you, in watching you grow up. That strength helps me swing my axe, and laugh, and make jokes, and that gives other people strength, and they give that strength to others, and so it keeps going. So long as I do my part in that cycle, I know I've done good in my life. At least, that's how I look at things. I'm not the smartest, though, so it may not be of any use to you, Lady L'Arachel."

"No, Dozla. That was very wise. Truth be told, I did not know you had it in you. But you have given me much to think about." L'Arachel takes his hand and squeezes it. "Thank you."

"Gah ha ha! That praise gives me strength, too!" Dozla grins at her. "Happy to be of service, as always, Lady L'Arachel!"

"I could hear you all the way down the hall, old man." Rennac comes slouching up to them. "What are you two babbling on about now?"

"Just discussing our god-given roles in this great world, Rennac! Nothing unusual. Care to join us? Self-reflection is important, after all," says L'Arachel brightly.

"Self-reflection? From you? Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Rennac grouches. "Anyway - "

"Onward, then! To the barracks!" L'Arachel continues on her path. "We must prepare for our homecoming, after all! Don't fall behind, Rennac!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, I came up with an explanation for the magically-spawning promotion horses. You're welcome. /s


	7. Two Faces of Evil

The morning dawns, and the army is gathered outside of Renais Castle preparing for their travels: to return to Jehanna, and through to Rausten from there. L'Arachel feels rejuvenated after a night's rest, and sets about getting her bags and spells prepared. She is excited to return to Rausten - it has been a terribly long time, after all, and she is eager to show her beautiful homeland to the others. Above them, Renais Castle stands tall and imposing as ever, still looking rather desolate, but with one key difference - Grado's purple-and-black banner has been replaced with the blue and gold of Renais. That detail alone seems to make the very air warmer, and the castle's towering, crumbling spires less threatening.

When Princess Eirika emerges from the castle, a hush falls over the army. She is wearing slightly different armor from before - fancier and more elaborate, with a longer cape - and Sieglinde is hanging at her hip as she sits astride her white mare. Eirika's hair and cape are fluttering in the morning breeze, her face calm but firm, and looking at her, L'Arachel wonders how anyone could believe she was anything but royalty.

Eirika dismounts and L'Arachel walks to join her. "It is good to see you! You look lovely."

Eirika's cheeks color slightly. "Thank you...Seth found these sets of armor in one of Father's vaults. According to him, Father intended them to be gifts for our eighteenth birthday. We thought now would be the time to wear them." She nods to Ephraim, who has also come through the castle doors, speaking with Seth and Myrrh. He is also wearing new armor, although truthfully, L'Arachel doesn't pay him much heed.

"Well, it suits you well!" says L'Arachel. "Are you ready to begin our journey? I am looking forward to showing you my lovely Rausten."

"I am looking forward to seeing it, as well. We just have a few more preparations to make, and we'll be on our way."

"Myrrh says she wishes to fight with us now," says Ephraim, indicating the little dragon girl. "She may not look like much, but she's quite powerful."

"Ah…" Eirika frowns. "I suppose if that's what she wants, I won't stand in her way. If you think it wise, Brother, I'll let her."

Myrrh nods, her expression very serious on such a young face. "I'm a lot stronger than I appear, Mistress Eirika. I'll be careful."

"That's all I ask," says Eirika gently. Myrrh nods in response, staying close to Ephraim.

"We're ready to depart, Princess Eirika," says Seth with a bow. "Just give the word."

"All right." Eirika raises an arm. "We move out! Towards Rausten!"

\---

Despite the odd monster here or there, the journey through Jehanna goes largely smoothly - the gods smiling upon them, L'Arachel supposes, and hastening their march towards destiny. (At least, that is how she words it to Rennac, who rolls his eyes and points out that it is Eirika and Innes's skills with a map that has hastened their travels. L'Arachel prefers her own explanation.)

"We've nearly reached the Narube River," Innes announces, looking up fro his map. "From there, we will be very close to the Rausten border."

"The final Sacred Stone is nearly within our grasp!" L'Arachel declares. "I am eager to ensure its safety."

"L'Arachel, can you tell us anything about the Stone of Rausten?" Eirika asks.

"Naturally!" L'Arachel says proudly. "As Rausten's very own princess, I know a thing or two about our stone. The palace reliquary currently houses our Sacred Stone. Follow me, and I'll take you there."

"I sent the Frelian army ahead before us," says Innes. "They should be en route to Rausten. If we hurry, we can join up with them at the banks of the Narube River.”

Eirika's head jerks up. "Wait, is that - Everyone! Look there!" Two armies are doing battle shortly ahead of them, scattered across the river's banks.

"A skirmish!" Ephraim's hand goes to his lance.

Innes squints at the battlers. "Is that...Captain Syrene? What's going on?"

Tana gasps. "She might be in trouble! We have to help her!"

Something dark crawls up L'Arachel's spine, and she tenses, throwing out a warning arm. "Everyone, hold! Something evil is afoot…"

A wave of malefic energy, and then a figure appears before them - a young man in Grado robes, with matted, pale-violet hair. He emanates dark magic, and something far worse - that same terrible aura that haunted Renais Castle and lingered in the Jehanna throne room, even stronger than L'Arachel has ever felt it. He oozes it, reeks of it, so much so that L'Arachel is left stunned, unable to move.

"Lyon!" Eirika and Ephraim speak at almost exactly the same time.

"Eirika...Ephraim…" The man's face is sad, and solemn as he gazes at the twins.

"Lyon…" Eirika begins to walk towards him. "Where have you been all this time?"

"Eirika!" L'Arachel gasps out, struggling to even breathe as the twisted energy flows over her. "Be careful!"

Ephraim grabs his sister's arm. "She's right - Eirika, stop!"

"L'Arachel? ...Brother?" Eirika halts, looking back and forth between them. "But…"

"Lyon…" Ephraim addresses the sorcerer. "We met recently in Grado Keep, right? Do you remember what you told me then? You told me this was all your doing, that you had started this war...that you killed our father."

"What?" Lyon's face changes, fills with hurt and confusion. "Ephraim...Why are you so angry? We haven't seen each other in so long...What's happened?"

His voice sounds so truly pitiful that even as his evil chokes L'Arachel, a part of her believes the man - wants to comfort him, console him.

Eirika's face softens. "Lyon…"

"Wait, Eirika!" L'Arachel shakes herself, putting a hand on Eirika's shoulder. "He is not...that isn't...that isn't a person."

"Not a person?" Eirika stares at her. "What - "

"Remember, Eirika? Lyon must be under the control of someone or something else," says Ephraim, stepping between Eirika and Lyon.

"Don't...don't be ridiculous!" Anger crosses Eirika's face, and she pulls away from L'Arachel. "There must be something wrong with you, Ephraim! Lyon is one of our dearest and closest friends, remember? He told me that, no matter what happened, he was still on our side." She looks at Lyon. "Isn't that right, Lyon?"

"Yes, Eirika. Of course it is. So please, come here...Closer...Ah!" Lyon - or whatever he is - doubles over suddenly, staggering, groaning with pain.

"Lyon?!" Eirika cries.

Lyon makes a few desperate, strangled noises. "Stay...back...Eirika...Ephraim…Get away...from me...quickly...If you...don't...I will surely...destroy you...”

"What? Lyon…" Eirika pulls free of L'Arachel and Ephraim. "Please, just tell me what's wrong! Maybe we can help you - "

"Flee...qui-quickly...go!" Lyon grunts, and then suddenly screams, still hunched over, writhing.

"Ly-Lyon. Hold on! What is it? What's happening?!" Eirika reaches for Lyon once more, but then he suddenly straightens, and she jerks her hand away in fear - he is smiling, but cruelly. The waves of evil have not lessened, but he has stopped hiding them, and L'Arachel rests a hand on her tome.

"...Hi. It's been a while since I saw you two last, hasn't it?" Lyon's voice sounds as though he is merely commenting on the weather.

"L-Lyon? Is that really you speaking, Lyon?"

"Stay back, Eirika. Keep your guard up." Ephraim's eyes narrow. "That's _not_ Lyon."

"I'm not Lyon?" Lyon gives a harsh bark of laughter. That's rich. A masterpiece. You always thought Lyon was kind, gentle, and weak, didn't you? _Admit it._ "

"No! Lyon, Eirika, and I were friends. There were things we kept to ourselves, of course, but we shared so much. And no matter what happened, no matter how much time passed…" Ephraim's voice is filled with pain, and perhaps more emotion than L'Arachel has ever heard from him. "We're still friends. Lyon would never betray us. Not in a million years. You're not Lyon."

Lyon shakes his head. "...Hmph...Looks like I was wrong to disregard the value of human emotions."

"What?!" Eirika's hands are shaking, her face white as a sheet. "I don't...I don't understand, Lyon…"

"I've had my fun pretending to be human, but the need for charades has passed. You are correct. This body no longer belongs to your young Lyon. I devoured his pathetic heart _ages_ ago."

"You monster!" Ephraim shouts. "Who are you?!"

"Do you really not know me? What a poorly educated prince. Think about it. Remember the legends of your pitiful kind…what was sealed within the Stone of Grado? What is the name of terror?"

L'Arachel knows. She has known for some time, if she truly thinks on it...but she was afraid, too afraid, to admit it. She knows what has happened here, and for a moment, she is a child again, sitting in the troubadours' sanctuary with Saaga, her heart clenched in fear.

_The Demon King will eat these kind, innocent souls, and warp them, and twist them into something dark and awful. He finds the darkness in their souls and inflates that darkness, strengthens it. The darkness grows, until it consumes the light entirely, and all that is left is selfishness, hatred, resentment, and fear. The victim may retain some degree of control, but they will no longer be themselves. The good parts of their soul are extinguished, and their inherent darkness breeds and grows. It is a dreadful fate, worse than death - to turn and hurt one's own beloved people. To wreak evil that one may have dreamed of, but never intended to truly act upon…_

_...that is what possession from the Demon King does to a person._

"No…" Eirika whispers. "It can't be!"

"It's as we feared after all," says L'Arachel heavily. "That can only be…"

Ephraim finishes for her. "The great adversary of antiquity…the Demon King."

The Demon King, or Lyon, or both, begins to cackle with laughter, throwing his head back, laughter ringing throughout the battlefield, a painful, grating sound. "Lyon...Lyon...oh, prince of misery...Come out. Be not shy...This body is lost to you...It is mine to compel…"

"What's...what's going…" Eirika's eyes are filling with tears, her voice shaking.

"Your dreams, Lyon...I am about to make them come true for you. I am about to crush Prince Ephraim and take Princess Eirika for my own. Isn't this all that you've ever prayed for, young fool of a prince? Rejoice, Lyon. The time has come...Ephraim, the man you envy...Eirika, the woman you desire...I will now grant you all of your darkest wishes!" Dark magic cocoons the man, and with a whirl, he vanishes, reappearing at the entrance to the fortress on the river's opposite bank.

"We must fight him, then," says Ephraim. "There is no other choice." Already, Grado's army is beginning to rally, making to descend upon them. "Eirika, if you cannot do this, you should stay back."

"No…" Eirika scrubs tears from her eyes with the back of her glove. "No, I will fight. This is...this is my battle. Let us...let us go. Tana, Innes...you two take the fliers and hasten to help Captain Syrene and the villagers caught in the chaos. The rest of us...will challenge - will _save_ \- Lyon. I don't believe he is lost. I cannot believe that."

"Eirika," says L'Arachel gently as the others begin to run to their battle stations, "Please, I know it hurts, but try to listen to me." She takes Eirika's arm, as gently as she can. "I do not think you can save Lyon."

"What!?" Eirika yanks her arm back from L'Arachel as if burned. "You think...you think I'm not strong enough? You think I should just give up?"

"No!" L'Arachel cries out. "No, no of course not! I merely - "

"Even - even you think I'm weak. I thought, you of all people…" Tears are brimming in Eirika's eyes again, starting to fall down her face. L'Arachel feels something in her heart shatter. "Everyone thinks I'm too weak, too pathetic, too foolish, even Ephraim, even Lyon - just - just leave me be! I can do this!"

"It doesn't have anything to do with your strength, Eirika! Please, just listen to me - "

"I'm not going to give up on Lyon! Not ever! I might be weak, but…" Eirika roughly scrubs tears from her face. "Just...just leave me be, L'Arachel. Please."

"If…" L'Arachel steps back. "If that is what you wish, then I will do so. But, Eirika...if you need me, I am here. That...that is all I want to say."

A wave of guilt crosses Eirika's face, and she opens her mouth, but Ephraim rides up to them. "What are you two doing? We need to move! Eirika, the army is relying on you!"

"Right." Eirika turns away from L'Arachel and swings herself up onto her horse's back. "I...I can do this."

L'Arachel mounts her own horse, trying to focus on the battle instead of the screaming pain in her chest. "Lead, then, and I will follow."

"Time to cross the river. We're going to help Lyon." Eirika lifts her blade. "To battle!"

\---

Eirika and Ephraim's squad presses towards Lyon's fortress. The closer to him they draw, the stronger the dark energy feels, making L'Arachel feel somewhat ill. Then again, the memory of Eirika's anger, of her tears, of L'Arachel's own words bringing Eirika pain, might also be the cause of that. She tries to push through it, though, clenching her teeth and focusing on her tome and staff. This is a battle for their lives, after all. She can fret about such things later. At least, she tries to tell herself that.

The remnants of the Grado army are strong, but Eirika's forces are stronger still. The twins are a force to be reckoned with both individually and as a unit, and even if Eirika's movements are slightly slower than usual, the two can handily deal with the encroaching foes. L'Arachel heals them when needed, and Seth and Myrrh back them up, and before long, Lyon is within sight once more.

"Do you challenge me?" Lyon sounds bored. "You humans are so inconstant. You've forgotten what it is to fear me." His face twists into a wicked smirk once more. "I must teach you again, then." He lifts a hand, and black magic flies at the group. They all scatter to evade it.

"Lyon, please!" Eirika cries out, her voice breaking. "You must stop! I…I have no wish to fight you!"

"Heh heh…Wretched girl." Lyon's violet eyes glint with mirth. "Are you listening, Lyon? Is this truly the girl you loved? Then I will use these hands to tear her limb from limb!"

Ephraim levels his lance at the creature, his face twisted with fury. "Where's Lyon? _What have you done with our friend!?_ ANSWER ME!"

"...What a splendid fool you make. Shall I dress you in a jester's cap? Shall we watch you jape in my demon's court?" The villain's mocking voice makes L'Arachel feel still sicker. "Lyon is _dead_. I devoured him. Can you not understand?"

"Monster!" Ephraim shouts. "Eirika! As one! We take this beast down, we get to the real Lyon!" He rushes Lyon, and Eirika does too - but, only a meter from Lyon, Eirika hesitates. For only a fraction of a second, her blade hovers in midair. And the Demon King sees it, and L'Arachel does too, and they both move at the same time. L'Arachel fires a bolt of vivid light at the same moment Lyon's dark magic surges out of his hands towards Eirika, and the two orbs collide in midair, both smashing harmlessly into the fortress wall. L'Arachel lets out a breath of relief. Eirika continues her strike as Ephraim does too, and the side of his lance crashes into Lyon's head as Eirika's blade slices through his arm. The Demon King stumbles backwards as blood gushes from both injuries.

"Lyon!" Eirika pulls back. "Please, is that - "

Lyon roars, firing again; L'Arachel rushes in front of her, catching the blast of darkness with her own magic. Ephraim strikes again, hitting Lyon hard in the stomach with his lance, and the smaller man crumples to the ground in a heap.

Eirika cries out, leaping from her horse, and Ephraim delivers another blow. Lyon shoots at him once more, and the dark magic hits Ephraim's arm, but he merely grits his teeth and lifts his lance over his head.

"Ephraim, no! Please, don't hurt him anymore!" Eirika runs towards the two men, sword falling from her hand to land in the grass.

"Eirika, stop!" L'Arachel cries, and Ephraim rears back, lance pointed at Lyon's heart - and Eirika runs between the two men, flinging her arms out, facing her brother, tears in her eyes, shielding Lyon with her own body.

L'Arachel feels her own heart stop in that instant - but Ephraim's eyes widen, and he pivots at the last moment, lance slamming into the ground beside Eirika, who doesn't flinch.

"Heh…" Lyon is bleeding heavily, a heap on the ground. "Humans are...so amusing…" and he vanishes.

Eirika lowers her arms, head drooping, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Ephraim tugs his lance free of the ground. "Eirika - what were you _thinking_?"

"You were going to kill him," Eirika whispers, her eyes fixed on the ground. "You were going to kill _Lyon_ , Ephraim. You said...you said we would help him."

"I…" Ephraim stares at his bloodied lance. "I...I was. I forgot myself, and I only saw the enemy, I forgot it was Lyon, and I was going to kill him...but you nearly got yourself killed, Eirika."

"If it was to save him, I don't care," Eirika says fiercely, looking up at Ephraim, her eyes thundering. "I'm not going to let my brother kill my friend. Even if I have to die to achieve it."

"The Demon King's getting away!" Myrrh calls, flying down towards them. "He's that way!" She points into the distance, where a staggering figure is retreating.

"We need to follow," says Eirika, running back to her mount. "Let's go."

"...You're right. He's on foot and we've taken down most of his men, he can't get far. Myrrh, show us the way." Ephraim shakes himself, and the group hurries to pursue Lyon.

When they catch up to him, Lyon is muttering to himself as he drags his battered body along. "...Can't hold up to such as this? Accursed human flesh is too brittle, too weak…"

"Hold, Lyon!" Eirika calls.

"Now I know your strength. It is time to leave. I sacrifice this flesh and return to my body of old." Lyon turns to face them, eyes gleaming with ancient darkness. "This does not end. The world will drown again in darkness."

He vanishes.

"We will not let you flee!" Ephraim shouts. "After him, Eirika! We have to find where he's gone. Search everywhere! I can't allow him to desecrate my friend's body any longer!"

Tana comes flying over to them, Innes seated on the saddle behind her. She lands gracefully.

"Eirika, Ephraim," says Innes, dismounting. "No need to panic. My soldiers pursue Prince Lyon's trail. Our trackers are excellent. They'll have him soon."

"And we've rescued Captain Syrene," Tana adds. "The villagers living here are all safe, and the remnants of the Grado army that were gathered here have been stamped out."

"Good…" Eirika is gazing towards the forest. "That's good."

"There's something I need to speak with you about," says Innes. "The messenger I sent to Frelia returned not long ago. She brought a package I'd requested: Frelia's Sacred Twins. Frelia may have lost her Sacred Stone…however, it seems the Sacred Twin relics remained undisturbed. I had them brought here. Behold!" He holds out an elegant bow and lance set, made of matching bronze. "Frelia's Sacred Twins. Nidhogg, the Serpent Bow, and Vidofnir, the Winged Lance. I want you to take them."

"These are for you, aren't they?" Eirika asks. "They're for the rulers of Frelia."

"No, I entrust them to your care. You're the leader of this army. Use them as you see fit."

"Thank you, Prince Innes…" Eirika takes the weapons. "I appreciate your sacrifice."

"It is no sacrifice, and I require no thanks," Innes answers.

"He's right!" Tana chimes in. "After all, we're all fighting together!"

"Should the time come when these are needed…" says Eirika, "I will return these to you two. I can think of no better to wield them. Seth, would you bring them to the convoy?" She passes Frelia's Twins off to her vassal.

"Let's go regroup," says Ephraim. "Come along, Myrrh. I want to make sure you're all right. You used a lot of your power there."

"Speaking of all right...come over here, you." L'Arachel waves her staff over Ephraim's injured arm, and the wound sets itself to rights. "Make sure to get that examined when you're back in camp."

"Yes, yes. Thank you, Princess L'Arachel. I'll do so. Let's go, Myrrh."

The little girl nods, seating herself on the back of Ephraim's horse, and they head back towards the camp. Innes climbs back on Tana's pegasus, and the two fly after them. Seth gives another bow and retreats as well.

"L'Arachel…" Eirika murmurs. L'Arachel starts and turns to face Eirika. She is staring at the retreating horse and pegasus, but not really looking at them, her eyes somewhat blank.

"What is it? You aren't hurt, are you?" L'Arachel holds up her staff again, but Eirika shakes her head.

"No. I just wanted...to apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, earlier. It was unkind, and you were only trying to help. I'm so sorry." Eirika's hands twist and untwist on her lap.

"Don't trouble yourself about it," says L'Arachel gently, riding up alongside her. "You'd just been through something terribly difficult."

"It was still wrong of me," says Eirika, looking up to meet L'Arachel's eyes.

"All is forgiven, Eirika. Please don't worry. But you know...I do think you're strong, Eirika. Quite impressively so. I have always thought so. I hope you know that."

"I do," Eirika admits. "I did then, too. I merely...I was not angry at you, truly. I was frustrated with my brother, and with myself, not with you. I feel...I do not feel as if I am strong at all, especially not now."

"I think you are strong, Eirika. Doing what you did back there...that took strength. You stood your ground, and I admit, it terrified me. I do not know if I would have had the courage to do such a thing." L'Arachel reaches for Eirika's hand, then hesitates.

Eirika closes the distance and takes L'Arachel's hand, gripping it like a lifeline. "...Thank you, L'Arachel."

"Did I not promise you, mere days ago?" L'Arachel squeezes Eirika's hand. "I said I would be at your side, no matter what. And so I shall. I don't intend to break my oath so soon after making it!"

"I have already broken mine, I think. I said I would be at your side, as well. Yet I turned my back on you, and lashed out at you." Eirika looks down at their hands.

"It is already forgiven, Eirika. Please don't dwell on it any longer. But...may I ask one more thing of you?"

"What is it?"

"Value your own life as much as you do others'. You were prepared to die for your friend Lyon. That is admirable. But, Eirika...do not throw your own life away so easily. Your life is important, too. You deserve to live and be happy as much as any other. You promised not to go dying on me in battle, and I have every intention of holding you to that promise. So...take care of yourself. All right?"

Eirika manages a small, shaky smile. "All right. Will...will you be with me, for this next battle?"

"Of course, dearest." The last word slips from L'Arachel's mouth before she can think, but Eirika either doesn't notice, or doesn't mind. "I will always be wherever you need me."

\---

"Our scouts have reported that Lyon is moving north...through the Darkling Woods, towards Rausten," says Innes. "He could well be after Rausten's Sacred Stone, or maybe he seeks something in the woods...but whatever it is, I doubt it's any good for us."

"So this is where he was last sighted?" Eirika peers at the barren landscape of Mt. Neleras - there is little that can be seen through a thick, foul-smelling fog.

"Apparently. We're to meet with an advance party here - they'll tell us more. If we can find them in all this mess," Innes grouches.

"Cheer up!" Tana's smile is slightly forced. "No need to be so grumpy!"

"I'm not _grumpy_ , I'm just saying - " The siblings continue bickering. Ephraim joins in, goading Tana on as Innes pouts, while Myrrh flutters nearby, giggling.

“L'Arachel…" Eirika says softly, so only the two of them can hear. "May I ask for your advice?"

"What is it, Eirika?" L'Arachel frowns. "There's no need to be so formal."

"It's about Lyon...My brother was right. Lyon's been possessed by the Demon King. He...He's no longer the Lyon I once knew." Eirika lowers her eyes. "But I can't help feeling...there must be some way to bring him back.”

L'Arachel's throat feels tight. Saaga's voice seems to echo through the years: _If the process of the Demon King taking control is completed, then the victim cannot be saved. Their goodness will have been eaten away. All that can be done is to put what remains out of its misery, so that it cannot continue its quest of spreading pain and suffering._

Eirika moves closer to L'Arachel. "Please help me, L'Arachel. I want to save him. Rausten is the spiritual heart of Magvel. They keep the ancient lore. You're their princess. You must know something about the demons of legend. Is there anything that can save Lyon?"

L'Arachel looks into Eirika's blue eyes, filled with hope, and her heart clenches at the thought of crushing that hope. But she must be honest.

"I'm so sorry, Eirika. To the best of my knowledge, there is no way to aid him."

"That - That can't be!" Eirika grips L'Arachel's arm. "There must be something! Any clue, no matter how slight…"

"Our oldest legends tell us just this…" says L'Arachel quietly. "Only one person has ever been able to shake off the Demon King's domination. Rausten's founder, Saint Latona the sure-hearted, shattered his fetters. If one possesses a strength of will beyond that of normal men...Only then can one throw off the shackles of the Demon King. But you saw it yourself, Eirika, with your own two eyes. Your friend Lyon's body has already been claimed by the Demon King. Once it's gone that far, there's nothing that can be done. When the Demon King takes over someone, he devours his spirit, his very soul. Even if his hold on Lyon's body could be released, that body would have no soul. There is no power in Rausten...not even the Sacred Stone...that can perform so great a miracle as to restore a shattered soul. I am so, so terribly sorry, Eirika. I tried to tell you earlier...but there is nothing we can do. There is nothing anyone can do."

"But…" Eirika whispers. "Lyon…"

"Eirika...I understand how you feel, but the prince is gone. The Lyon you knew no longer exists. It's more important now that you care for yourself. If we pursue the Demon King, we're likely to suffer for it. Please, you should return to Rausten Castle and rest yourself. We can send a guide to show you the way - "

"Thank you, L'Arachel. However, I must stay with my company. I have to believe there's something I can do to help him. Lyon was always so kind. He wanted nothing more than to help people. It's too terrible to picture him imprisoned by the Demon King. Imprisoned with no hope of salvation."

"It is, but Eirika…"

"This way!" Innes's scout calls to them. "The enemy went into the recesses of this valley."

The group follows the scout into the valley of Mt. Neleras. The air is painfully hot, thick and choked with sulphur. The smell is dreadful, perhaps even worse than the heat, and gorgon eggs dot the cliffs around them.

"I don't see Lyon…" says Ephraim. "This is where he was last sighted?"

"Yes, sir!" The soldier nods. "He may have continued onwards by now, though!"

"Brother!" Eirika calls suddenly. "The eggs! They've started to hatch!"

"No…" Ephraim grabs his lance. "He's led us into a trap! Watch out! Everyone, steer clear of those eggs!"

Eirika plunges her sword through the hatching egg near her, and it bursts in a small heap of ooze. "If we break them before they can hatch, the monster won't emerge! Destroy them, quickly!"

"There are so many…" Myrrh looks around at the rapidly hatching eggs.

"More monsters are coming," says L'Arachel grimly. "This was a cunning trap...but the monsters stand no chance against our combined might! Let us make quick work of these fiends so that we may be on our way!" She turns back to Dozla and Rennac, who have appeared behind her. "You two, get to work on smashing those eggs!"

"Gar ha ha, I hear you loud and clear, Lady L'Arachel! I'm very good at smashing things, if I do say so myself!" Dozla swings his axe into a nearby egg, and it explodes - all over Rennac, who makes a gagging noise as the foul liquid covers him.

"Why, old man!?" Rennac sputters. "Why?"

"Ah, awfully sorry, Rennac! But that goop suits you, if I do say so myself. Come on, get to smashing! I'll let you explode one on me too, if you want - that way we'll match, and you'll feel better!" Dozla poses next to an egg. "Go on, take a good swing!"

"I know what I'd prefer to smash," Rennac growls, readying his blade. "But I'll settle for the egg."

"An excellent start, both of you! Carry on that way. I shall proceed onwards, in order to smite these foul beasts and their repulsive eggs!" L'Arachel salutes them both and speeds off alongside the rest of the calvary.

It is foul, messy work - the heat and smell are both nearly overpowering, and the monsters are plentiful. L'Arachel sends bursts of light flying wherever she goes, destroying monsters in a whirl - this is her element, and after so much practice, she is well accustomed to the beasts' habits. In what feels like no time at all, the army has cleared the valley of monsters.

Eirika is on a cliff several yards above L'Arachel, sighing as she cleans gorgon remnants from her sword's blade. "That was...rather disgusting."

"It was!" says L'Arachel cheerfully. "Evil always is. But we have done well here! The foul beasts are gone, and can no longer threaten us, thanks to our combined might and - Eirika?"

Eirika is staring past her - at a robed figure standing at the mouth of a cave deeper in the valley, some yards ahead of Eirika. L'Arachel squints, and realizes with a jolt who it is - but Eirika has already kicked her horse's side and broken into a full on gallop towards him.

Once more, Lyon vanishes in a flash of darkness.

"Wait!" Eirika calls.

"Hold, Eirika!" Ephraim calls from far behind her. "Don't go anywhere alone!"

"Lyon's back there! I won't abandon him!" Eirika vanishes into the depths of the cave.

"We need to follow her!" Ephraim shouts.

L'Arachel shakes herself. "Of course! Here, there's a path up this way…"

It takes the group some time to make their way through the valley to the cave, hindered by the steep cliffs and flares of lava. Ephraim tears ahead of all of them, faster than Theia can hope to keep pace.

By the time L'Arachel, Innes, Tana, Seth, and Myrrh arrive, there are only two turquoise-haired figures kneeling on the ground in the cave. Ephraim is crouched in front of Eirika, holding her in a tight embrace. L'Arachel leaps off of Theia's back and runs over to them. Eirika is staring fixedly ahead, her eyes filled with tears, her body shaking slightly.

"Eirika! Are you unhurt?" L'Arachel kneels next to the twins. "Ephraim, is she…"

"I think she's okay. Physically, at least," says Ephraim grimly. "Eirika, please, try to answer me…"

Eirika takes a choked, gasping breath, her fingers clawing into fists, gripping so tightly her knuckles are turning white. "L'Arachel...Ephraim...I...I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, dear?" L'Arachel says gently. Eirika shakes her head slightly, tears falling down her face onto Ephraim's shoulder. She is still staring at the same spot - and L'Arachel follows her gaze to a spot on the cave floor. On the ground lies a small pile of cerulean shards - and L'Arachel realizes. "Is that...Eirika, is that the Sacred Stone?"

Eirika screws her eyes shut, a sob escaping her, and it is all the confirmation needed.

"Oh, Eirika…" L'Arachel places a hand on Eirika's shoulder. "It isn't your fault. I'm certain you did all you could…"

Eirika shakes her head, harder this time.

"It's all right, Eirika. You're safe. Everything is going to be fine. Take deep breaths." L'Arachel strokes Eirika's hair. "We're here for you. We're right here."

After a few moments more, Eirika pulls away from Ephraim and gets somewhat unsteadily to her feet.

"Eirika? Are you certain you are well?" L'Arachel stands up. "You can take as long as you need…"

"I...I am all right," says Eirika, although her voice trembles, and her face is pale. "What...where did Lyon go?"

Seth approaches them. "Prince Innes, Princess Tana, Lady Myrrh, and I have all been searching the cave…It appears the enemy fled over this cliff.”

Eirika closes her tear-reddened eyes. "I see no way we can pursue him now…”

"So he got away, is that it?" Ephraim growls.

"There's no cause to be discouraged," says L'Arachel brightly, trying to bring cheer back to the group of solemn faces. "Beyond these mountains lie the heart of Darkling Woods. Before we enter, we must head north to Rausten. After all, we still need the Sacred Stone of Rausten. As long as even one stone remains, all hope is not lost. Come on. We cannot give in to despair when victory draws so near!"

"That's...that's right. There's still Rausten's stone...we need to get to Rausten." Eirika walks on wobbling legs to where her horse waits, and climbs up. "Let's go, then. We can make progress before nightfall...we need to get out of this valley, and to Rausten."

"Are you sure, Eirika?" Ephraim frowns. "Maybe we ought to wait…"

"No, no...we need to keep moving." Eirika turns her horse to face the cave's exit. "Let's get out of here."

"If you say so," says Ephraim, mounting his own horse.

"Eirika…" L'Arachel begins. "Really, it's okay if you're not feeling well, we can just - "

"I said I am fine. Please, let's just go. So we can...so I can fix this."

"All right," L'Arachel answers softly. She climbs atop Theia. "But we can stop at any time if you need to."

"Mmm." Eirika heads out of the cave.

Her hands are shaking on her horse's reins.

\---

Two hours later, they are finally nearing the edge of Mt. Neleras's miserable, lava-stained grounds.

"There, I can see the forests of Rausten. We're near the border. It's just minutes away," says L'Arachel with relief, pointing. "We're nearly out of the worst of it, and then we can make camp." Night has already fallen, and the army is grumbling with fatigue.

Eirika gives a small nod. She is still terribly pale, staring dead ahead. She has not spoken a word since leaving the valley, only continued to ride, stiff as a board.

"Eirika? Dear…" L'Arachel pauses. Sweat is trickling steadily from Eirika's brow and down to her neck, and her breathing is rapid. "Are you all right?"

"I am...I am fine…" Eirika's hands suddenly go slack on the reins, and L'Arachel realizes what is happening and reaches out just as Eirika begins to slide sideways, collapsing into L'Arachel, who clumsily struggles to hold her aloft between their two horses.

"Eirika!? Eirika!" Eirika's eyes are closed, and she doesn't answer L'Arachel's calls. "Eirika!!"

At the sound of L'Arachel's cry, Dozla appears, reaching up and taking hold of Eirika's lower body. Together, he and L'Arachel awkwardly lower Eirika to the ground.

L'Arachel dismounts and kneels with Eirika's head resting in her lap. Eirika's breath comes short and fast, nearly gasping. She gives a small moan.

"Eirika!" Ephraim comes running towards them, pushing through the gathering crowd. "What happened!?"

"She collapsed," says L'Arachel, checking Eirika's temperature. "She is warm, but I don't think she has a fever - please, all of you, step back and give her air. And if someone could fetch water and cloth, that would be most helpful."

"You heard her!" Ephraim barks at the others. "Back up! And Seth, go get some water!" He crouches over them.

L'Arachel continues the motions of first aid, feeling for Eirika's pulse. "I think she's okay," L'Arachel says after a few more tense moments. "I believe this is overexertion - both physically and emotionally - and she has simply pushed herself to exhaustion."

Seth hands L'Arachel a waterskin and Dozla gives her a handkerchief; L'Arachel dampens the cloth and rests it on Eirika's forehead. Eirika gives a low moan, her eyelids fluttering.

"Eirika!? Eirika, can you hear me? It's me!" Ephraim crouches down and bends over them.

"Try not to overwhelm her," says L'Arachel softly. "She's still mostly unconscious. We should carry her a bit farther and make camp, so she can rest."

"Right - right." Ephraim shakes his head, and takes a steadying breath. "Here, I can carry her."

L'Arachel nods, carefully handing Eirika to Ephraim, who stands slowly.

As Eirika's head falls against Ephraim's shoulder, she moans again. "...All...all my fault..."

"It's alright, dear," says L'Arachel softly, standing up and resting her hand on Eirika's still shoulder. "We're going to take you somewhere safe now. Just rest."

"L...ara…"

"I'm right here. Ephraim's here too. Focus on your breath. Rest. We'll handle everything."

"Mmm…" Eirika falls silent, but her breathing is a bit steadier as she leans into Ephraim. "Don't...don't go…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Eirika. I'm with you."

Ephraim begins walking towards the forest's welcoming trees, L'Arachel keeping pace with him, an eye upon Eirika's sleeping form the whole way.

Dozla, Tana, and Seth make quick work of setting up Eirika's tent, and Ephraim lays Eirika gently on her bedroll. "I need to oversee the army with Eirika indisposed. L'Arachel...would you stay with her?"

"I had no intention of leaving," says L'Arachel. "If you could bring more water, and maybe some rations, for when she awakens? And my saddlebag, there were some herbs in there…"

"Right, I'll...I'll do that. Thank you, L'Arachel." Ephraim nods to her before departing the tent.

L'Arachel carefully removes Eirika's heavy armor and sets it aside, leaving her in her tunic, skirt, gloves, and boots. She then crosses her legs and sits at Eirika's bedside, listening to the thankfully steady and even sound of her breathing. The ruckus of camp being set up rings out around them. One of the Renais soldiers pokes his head in to drop off the supplies L'Arachel requested, but otherwise, it is only L'Arachel and Eirika in the tent. L'Arachel has never considered herself exceptional at sitting still (even when praying, she has always preferred to be actively moving) but it seems easy, and natural, to wait at Eirika's sickbed. Eirika's very presence seems to make her more patient.

Eventually, after about an hour, the noises from outside the tent quiet, night having fully descended and most of the others likely gone to bed. L'Arachel looks down at Eirika's face. Though her breathing is peaceful, her brow is furrowed, her hand clenched in the bedroll beside her. Anxiety seems to chase Eirika even into sleep. A stray strand of turquoise has fallen sideways into her face, and L'Arachel resists the urge to brush it away.

Eirika's eyes begin to slide open. She blinks a few times, confused.

"It's okay, Eirika," says L'Arachel at once, keeping her tone low and soft. "Everything's all right. You collapsed, but you're safe. We've made camp for the night."

Eirika makes a small rasping sound.

"Here…" L'Arachel picks up the waterskin. "You need some water. Let me help you sit up." She puts an arm around Eirika's shoulders, gently maneuvering her into a sitting position, and hands Eirika the waterskin. Eirika takes a few shaky sips. "That's good. Just breathe for now. You've had a tough day."

"It wasn't…" Eirika coughs, and then tries again. "It wasn't all a dream...was it? The Sacred Stone...it's really…"

"It was destroyed. I'm sorry. But please, you must know it wasn't your fault. The Demon King is formidable. Being overpowered by him is hardly - "

"He didn't...he didn't overpower me." Tears are brimming in Eirika's eyes again. "I...I _gave_ him the stone."

"...What?"

"I was so _stupid_ , so naive," Eirika whispers, tears falling freely down her cheeks. "Lyon said that the Stone could save his soul...you told me that the Sacred Stones weren't capable of such a thing less than an hour before, and I knew that, and yet I...I believed him. I wanted so _badly_ to believe him that I did. And I placed the Stone in his hand, and he...he smashed it upon the ground. It's...it's all my fault. The royal family's sacred duty is to protect that stone, and I handed it over to our greatest enemy with barely a second thought. I'm such a fool, such a worthless idiot...thanks to me, all hope might be lost."

"None of that is true, Eirika," says L'Arachel gently, holding Eirika tightly. "There is still hope. The Stone of Rausten still exists. And you aren't stupid. You are kind, and you are compassionate, and you are fiercely loyal. You never lose hope, even in the darkest of times. You cannot bear to see others suffer. You loved your friend, and you were desperate to save him. The Demon King knew that, and he exploited those qualities."

"Those _weaknesses_ ," Eirika breathes.

"No. They aren't weaknesses, my dear. They're strengths. They're what allowed you to have such strong allies and companions, to raise such a magnificent army, to bring such joy to the lives of those you touch. You have done so much good, Eirika. You have saved so many lives, ended so much suffering. You made a mistake. We all do. Even my holy self has been known to make blunders on occasion. But that does not make me, or you, or anyone worthless."

Eirika begins to cry in earnest, her entire body shaking with each sob. "I - I - Ephraim wouldn't - he wouldn't have done it. He would've known - he's so much stronger than me, so much better - "

"I don't think so," says L'Arachel. She reaches out with her free arm and hugs Eirika as tightly as she can, squeezing her, trying to push her own warmth into Eirika's trembling frame. "I think you are incredibly strong. Incredibly brave. Incredibly loving. Despite all you have been through, you still love with your whole heart, and that is an amazing strength all on its own. I won't ask anything of you, not tonight, not when you are so much pain. Just know that there are so many people who love you, who look up to you, and we are all here for you. I am here for you. I shall never leave your side, as long as you wish for me to be there. I have promised it before, and I will continue to promise it, again and again. And again after that, and again, until you will believe it. And I will repeat myself once more: you are strong, Eirika. You are one of the strongest people I have ever had the incredible privilege to meet. Your tears, your gentleness - they do not make you lesser, or weak."

Eirika wraps her arms around L'Arachel, clinging to her like an island, like an anchor, like she will die if she lets go, and cries, her sobs ringing through the tent. L'Arachel hugs her still tighter, and does not release her.

They spend a long time in that embrace, until Eirika's sobs have turned to hiccups and then to sniffles.

Eirika pulls away gently, and L'Arachel releases her, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from Eirika's flushed cheek. "You should get some sleep, all right? We'll head for Rausten Hall tomorrow. You needn't despair. Just try and rest."

Eirika gives a little nod, her eyelids already half-closed, and L'Arachel helps her lie back down on the bedroll.

"Sleep well, then." L'Arachel begins to get to her feet, but Eirika's hand shoots out and grasps her wrist. L'Arachel stops, and looks down at Eirika, whose eyes are still closed. "Eirika? Do you need something? Shall I fetch Ephraim or Seth - "

"...No, just...please, don't go," Eirika whispers into the stillness of the tent. "Please, just for tonight...stay with me. I need...I need you here."

"All right," says L'Arachel, wondering if Eirika can hear L'Arachel's own thumping heart in the quiet air. "I'll fetch my bedroll, and then I'll return at once. Is that okay?" Eirika nods again, releasing L'Arachel's wrist. "Very well then. I'll be right back!"

L'Arachel hurries out of the tent and over to where Theia has been tethered. She removes her bedroll from her pack.

"Princess L'Arachel? There you are. Is everything okay with Princess Eirika?" Dozla asks, coming up to her. "It's getting awfully late…"

"She simply needs her rest, and has asked that I keep her company for the night," L'Arachel explains, tucking her bedroll under her arm. "If you could inform Prince Ephraim as such for me? She doesn't seem to want more visitors, but she is stable. We can talk more in the morning."

"Of course, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla salutes before rushing off, and L'Arachel returns to Eirika's tent. Eirika's eyes have been trained on the tent flap, and she seems to relax slightly when she sees L'Arachel come through the door.

L'Arachel unrolls her bedroll beside Eirika's, less than a foot's distance between them. "There. I'll be right here all night. Just say the word if you need anything, okay? There's more water here, and some food if you need it."

"...L'Arachel?"

"Yes, dear?" L'Arachel wiggles into her bedroll and turns on her side to face Eirika. "What is it? Do you need me to get you something?"

"If you could..." Eirika's cheeks are pink, this time not just from crying. "It's silly, but...could you…hold my hand? Please?"

L'Arachel immediately reaches out and takes the proffered hand, resting between the two bedrolls. "It's no trouble at all, Eirika. I am here. I will stay for as long as you need me."

"...Thank you…" Eirika's eyes slide closed, and her breathing settles. Eventually, L'Arachel follows her into sleep as well.

Their fingers remain linked together the entire night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to end chapters with handholding, apparently.


	8. Last Hope

Eirika's company begins its march once more the next morning. Eirika is pale and quiet, saying only the most necessary of words, but she rests at night and eats a decent amount, so L'Arachel doesn't push her. L'Arachel keeps pace with Eirika during the marches, and sets up her tent next to Eirika's at night, but Eirika doesn't ask her to spend the night again, and L'Arachel doesn't want to encroach.

With the commander acting withdrawn, L'Arachel steps up her determination to act as resolutely cheerful as possible - pointing out the local flora and fauna of Rausten's woods, telling long-winded stories about her childhood exploits in the area, describing the interior decor of Rausten Hall - and occasionally Eirika manages a small smile or even a chuckle, and that alone is enough to fill L'Arachel with pride greater than that at slaying any monster.

Dozla joins in, having befriended little Myrrh and several other members of the company, and Tana does too, telling embarrassing baby stories about Ephraim and Innes to any who will listen (and some who won't.) Still, despite everyone's best efforts to keep the army's collective spirits up, a heavy weight seems to hang over the company, one only slightly lifted when they enter the capital city of Rausten.

"We're mere hours from home! The very air here is lighter than that of the Darkling Woods, wouldn't you say, Dozla?" L'Arachel comments as they continue towards Rausten Court.

"Gah ha! Fresh as a daisy, Princess!" Dozla takes a great whiff of the air. "Smell that, Myrrh? It smells like the sun, I'd reckon!"

"I'm not sure the sun has a smell," Myrrh says softly, but she's smiling. "It is a very pretty country, though."

"It's been so long since we've set foot here…" L'Arachel sighs. "So much has happened, it feels as though it's been even longer! I'm certain Uncle will be quite excited to meet everyone."

"Maybe he'll finally _pay_ me," Rennac mumbles. "I know better than to get my hopes up, though."

"Will the Divine Emperor really trust us with the Stone?" Eirika asks quietly. "I don't...after what happened…"

"Please don't fret, Eirika. Uncle rarely says no to me." L'Arachel gives Eirika an encouraging smile. "We have nothing to fear here."

"...I hope so," Eirika's eyes are trained on the road ahead. "I hope you're right, L'Arachel."

Soon enough, Rausten Hall is visible, and then they are at the front gates. There is a shout from the guards when the army is spotted, and the soldiers hasten to open the doors. "It's the princess! Princess L'Arachel is home, with the Renais army!"

"It is nice to have a warm welcome," L'Arachel comments as the men all spring aside from the opened doors and bow. "Hail, my men! It is lovely to see you all again! I come seeking an audience with my uncle on the behalf of Princess Eirika!"

"We've alerted His Holiness, Princess!" one of the guards calls out. "You are all welcome to enter the palace!"

L'Arachel dismounts, handing Theia's reins over to an approaching stable boy. "We shall do so, then! Come along, Eirika, everyone! I am so eager to show you my home!"

Eirika follows L'Arachel's lead, another stable boy immediately taking her horse's reins to lead her away. "My...your men are very enthusiastic, aren't they?"

"Of course! We encourage cheerfulness here in Rausten. Now, onwards we go!" L'Arachel hurries through the courtyard and into the palace entryway, and takes a deep breath. "Home at last. My dear, sweet palace."

Pontifex Mansel enters the room. His eyes alight upon L'Arachel and he beams.

L'Arachel curtsies. "Uncle, I've returned."

"Oh, L'Arachel!" Mansel rushes forward and hugs her. "It's good to see you safe!"

"Of course I'm safe, Uncle," says L'Arachel, pulling back and smiling up at him. "Evil can never defeat the forces of righteousness!"

Mansel laughs. "You're exactly right, my dear! Now tell me, who are our guests?"

Eirika steps forward and bows. "Pontifex Mansel of Rausten, allow me to introduce myself. I am Eirika, Princess of Renais."

"A pleasure," says Mansel. "Oh, and Dozla, it seems you are in good form as well?"

"Gar ha ha! As ever, old friend!" Dozla slaps Mansel on the back; Mansel staggers forward a few paces. "It's been quite the adventure!"

"There are other things we must speak of first, though," says L'Arachel. "Eirika, if you would?"

Eirika bows again. "Your Holiness, I come to you today as an emissary of Frelia, Renais, and Jehanna."

Ephraim bows at Eirika's side. "And I am Ephraim, Prince of Renais. I come with Eirika to warn you of the danger our world faces."

"It began when Grado invaded Renais," says Eirika. Her face is calm and businesslike, her insecurities once more buried beneath the surface. "It seems it was not an act of random aggression, and we know the reason behind the spread of the Darkling Wood monsters. Pontifex Mansel, it seems Prince Lyon of Grado has been possessed by the Demon King."

Mansel's eyebrows shoot up. "Truly? L'Arachel, are you certain of this?"

"Yes, Uncle. The aura that comes from him...any holy person would recognize at once what a foul beast they were dealing with. By the time the monster confirmed it himself, I knew it to be true. There cannot be any mistake. We must once more seal the Demon King. But Uncle, the Sacred Stones of Grado, Frelia, Jehanna, and Renais have all been destroyed by the enemy."

"…Hmm, I see." Mansel strokes his chin. "That is a tough tale to swallow all at once… However, I have heard of the fell creatures in Darkling Woods. L'Arachel. You will need the Stone of Rausten if we have any hope of victory."

"That is so, Uncle. I would like permission to open the temple seal."

"Hmm…" Mansel rests a hand on L'Arachel's shoulder. "There's no need to rush yourself so, L'Arachel. You're home again, in this blessed haven. You should rest."

"How can I relax until I know that our Sacred Stone is safe?" L'Arachel bursts out. "At the least, I'd like to ensure that the temple seal is intact."

Next to her, Eirika takes a deep, shuddering breath. L'Arachel suddenly notices how pale Eirika's face is, how her hands are shaking. "Oh…"

"Is something amiss?" Mansel asks.

"I think we'll take a night to rest after all," L'Arachel hastily amends. "Everyone is so exhausted. My dear friend Eirika especially has had a very trying time of late."

"There's no need to trouble yourselves on my account…" Eirika begins, but Mansel and L'Arachel shake their heads at the same time.

"Frankly, I would rest easier if I knew my niece was at least taking some time to herself. And I'm certain she is eager to host you. Besides, you must be in top shape if you intend to face the Demon King. No, no, you must stay, at least for the night. I won't hear otherwise." Mansel nods to his gathered guard. "Would all of you kindly show our guests to their quarters for the night, so they can get settled in?"

The soldiers all nod, and the army breaks apart, heading off to the guest chambers.

"I'll speak with you later about obtaining the Sacred Stone, Uncle," says L'Arachel. "For now, I must show Eirika to my chambers. She will be staying with me, of course."

"Of course. I will see you later, then, my dear." Mansel nods to them. "Take care of yourselves!"

L'Arachel takes Eirika's arm. "Come, right this way, Eirika! My quarters are just along this hall…"

Eirika nods. "Right...lead on, L'Arachel."

The walk to L'Arachel's rooms is quiet, but it is Eirika who breaks the silence. "Your uncle seems kind."

"He is. He, too, recognizes the importance of heroism in the face of great evil," L'Arachel explains. "It is a value our family holds proudly."

"He is...very much like you. It is comforting," says Eirika softly, and then she falls silent again.

When they arrive in the royal living chambers, L'Arachel pushes the elegant oak door to her rooms open.

Her bedroom seems immense, L'Arachel realizes. The room could easily fit one of the army's tents in it at least ten times over. The high, arched ceiling, the white-and-gold paneled walls, the delicate lace drapes - all so familiar, and yet they feel oddly foreign now. It is perfectly clean (likely Mansel having servants dust even in her absence) and everything is lined up carefully and in place. The hearth is cold, but neat, and the bed is made. The wardrobe and dressers are full, L'Arachel knows, and the jewelry box as well. It is a sharp contrast to Eirika's desolate, dusty room, and shame twinges at L'Arachel's heart.

"It's...a lovely room," says Eirika quietly, although she isn't looking. She releases L'Arachel's arm, drops her bag on the ground, and sits heavily down on a nearby armchair, hands in her lap. Her head is down, her pretty face sorrowful. Several minutes pass in silence.

L'Arachel kneels in front of the chair. "Eirika."

Eirika looks up in surprise. Sorrow lines her face. "Ah…"

"Don't look so sad," says L'Arachel softly, placing a hand over Eirika's. "It wreaks such havoc on your beauty."

"L'Arachel. I…What should I do?" Eirika's head lowers once more, staring at the ground. "Lyon was one of my dearest friends…I feel so helpless. There's nothing I can do to help him…"

"Your friend is gone, Eirika," says L'Arachel softly. "All that remains is the Demon King, masquerading as Lyon. For the good of all humanity, he must be defeated." She shakes her head. "Ah…if only it truly were that easy, though." She strokes her thumb over Eirika's hand. "Eirika…I never knew Prince Lyon. I cannot pretend to understand the sadness you must feel. However, I do know this…" L'Arachel puts her other hand beneath Eirika's chin and lifts her head gently, so that they are looking into one another's eyes. "If the Lyon you hold so dear were here with you today…what do you think he would want you to do?"

"I…" Eirika wipes tears from her eyes. "I...I can't…"

"There's no need to rush, Eirika. Take your time and think it through. You need to find your own answer." L'Arachel releases Eirika's hand and stands up straight. "Now then, it's about time we found ourselves something to eat. It's hard to be optimistic on an empty stomach."

Eirika looks up at her. "Yes, I'll be right there. Thank you, L'Arachel." She doesn't look happy, but she no longer appears to be deep in despair, and L'Arachel gives a small sigh of relief.

"I shall be off to the kitchens, then! They are most likely preparing a feast to celebrate my return." L'Arachel nods sagely and leaves the room.

When she makes it back to the throne room, though, a soldier has run up to Mansel, and the army is regrouping. "Your Holiness! There's been an attack! We think it's Grado's men, fleeing from Frelia's forces. However, they've breached the palace defenses at multiple points."

"What!?" Mansel gasps.

"The imperial guard is at a terrible disadvantage of numbers right now. It's less a battle than a slaughter. I'm not sure they will be able to hold out until the Knights of Rausten arrive."

"How has this happened? Our sacred capital invaded?" Mansel reaches for his staff. "I must…"

L'Arachel lays a hand on her uncle's shoulder. "Uncle, please, you must keep yourself safe. We can take care of this. Is everyone ready to go?" She looks to Seth, Ephraim, Innes, and Tana, who all nod.

Eirika enters the room. "I'm...I'm ready too."

"Princess Eirika, please...Prince Ephraim and I will handle this." Seth motions to shoo Eirika back down the hall.

Ephraim puts an arm in front of him. "Seth, it's all right. Eirika can take care of herself. Isn't that right, Eirika?"

Eirika nods. Her eyes have grown steely. "Yes. I'm sorry if I troubled you. Let's go. We have to protect Pontifex Mansel." She turns to face Mansel. "Pontifex, please remain here, and we'll keep the forces from entering the throne room until the Rausten Knights can make it to the castle."

"Very well, Princess Eirika. I entrust the safety of Rausten to you and your army - and to you too, L'Arachel." Mansel steps back. "Please do what you can. May righteousness ride with you."

"It shall indeed, Uncle. Don't worry a bit!" L'Arachel salutes him.

Eirika walks to the front of the room and raises her sword above her head. "All right - let's move out, then! Don't let Grado's remnants invade the palace!"

A cheer rises up, and the army spreads out around the throne room, guarding Pontifex Mansel.

The battle that follows is difficult, and fierce - the night's darkness guards the Grado Army, making it difficult if not impossible to predict the enemy's movement. L'Arachel and Eirika lead the advance group, counterattacking the army as it surges up the palace stairs, and reinforcing Mansel's guard, which is starting to be overrun by the enemy's reinforcements.

L'Arachel waves her staff over an injured palace guard. "Sir, you must be careful! I would hate for any of you to perish here!"

"Yes, Princess. Thank you, Princess," the man gasps, struggling back to his feet. "We will defend your holy self to the death - "

"There's hardly any need for that! Focus on taking care of yourself." L'Arachel gives the man's armored shoulder a reassuring pat. "Get back to the rear guard, please, and reinforce Prince Ephraim's squad. Princess Eirika and I have things well in hand here."

"Y-yes, Your Highness!" The man bows and hurries back into the dark recesses of the castle.

The scent of steel and blood hangs heavy in the air. L'Arachel sighs as she tosses aside a used-up staff, reaching for her usual, weaker one instead. "My, but the enemy is powerful."

"They are," says Eirika, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "But we're holding out well. According to our messenger, the Rausten Knights are mere minutes away - once the Grado army is caught between us and them, the battle will surely be ours. We simply must last a bit longer…"

"Say no more!" L'Arachel shoots down a paladin charging them. "Lasting a bit longer is simple for us friends of justice! These curs have dared infiltrate my own beloved palace - I will be showing them no mercy whatsoever!"

It is then that, through the dark, between the waves of enemies, L'Arachel catches sight of a man wearing dark robes. He has dark red hair and a hunched back, and it takes her a moment to place him - but the memory hits her all at once.

"No," L'Arachel gasps out. "That's - "

A general bears down upon them, and L'Arachel averts her eyes to attack. When she looks back, the dark-robed man is gone - but L'Arachel is certain she saw him. Aged by time and darkness, certainly, but L'Arachel has no doubt.

"I must speak with Uncle, when all this is over," says L'Arachel grimly. "These remnants of Grado's army are being led by…"

"L'Arachel!" Eirika shouts. "Behind you!"

L'Arachel turns just in time to dodge a flying arrow, and counterattacks. "You thought you could get the best of me, did you? I am not one to be so easily snuck up on! Thank you, Eirika."

A voice shouts from the darkness. "The Knights of Rausten have arrived! Princess, are you all right?"

"General!" L'Arachel calls. "We are holding out. Please, if you could lend us your aid?"

"Of course! Knights of Rausten, move out!" An answering call echoes through the hallways. With the Knights there, the last of the Grado army is quickly decimated, a resounding victory for Eirika's army.

"Behold!" L'Arachel declares, spreading her arms. "Victory is ours!"

"Yes, we did it somehow," Eirika wipes sweat from her brow. "I wonder if everyone else is okay."

"I'm sure they're fine," says L'Arachel brightly. "But…" She drops her voice, so that only she and Eirika can hear. "Eirika? Did you find your answer?"

Eirika turns to face her. "Yes. Thank you, L'Arachel. Your words guided me."

Her smile is like the sun, making heat blossom in L'Arachel's face and chest. "My-my words? It was nothing…" She fidgets with her staff. "Come, we should find the Sacred Stone. If anything were to happen to it…"

"L'Arachel?" Eirika frowns, confused. "Your face is flushed. Is anything amiss?"

"N-no, it's nothing. Nothing at all!" L'Arachel quickly ducks her head to hide her burning cheeks. "We should - we should really be going, then! I'll - I'll go open the seal. It's off the back of the throne room, so you wait there with the others, okay?"

"Ah - very well, then. If you're certain you're all right…" Eirika nods to her and then turns to walk back towards the throne room. L'Arachel takes a few deep breaths, calming her pounding heart, and then sets off after her.

Mansel is waiting there, along with Ephraim, Myrrh, Innes, Tana, and Dozla. "The Rausten Knights have reported back. All is well out there, then?"

"Yes. What about in here, Uncle? You are unhurt?"

"I am fine. The enemy may have breached the palace, but only the outer rooms - our living quarters are all but untouched," says Mansel. "We were incredibly fortunate. Princess Eirika, you and your army have my, and all of Rausten's, deepest thanks."

"It was no trouble, Your Holiness," Eirika answers. "It was - well, L'Arachel would call it our sacred duty."

"Ha! That she would." Mansel smiles, eyes twinkling. "And I would agree with her! Very well put."

"Oh, but there is one more thing, Uncle. I fear that our enemy has a former holy man among their ranks." L'Arachel swallows. "This army was being led by a former bishop of Rausten, Brother Riev."

"The Blood Beryl?" Innes frowns. "He's from Rausten?"

Mansel slowly bows his head. "Yes, I...suspected as much. The famed Blood Beryl of Grado only recently joined their ranks. He was never spoken of to the same extent as the other generals, and always lurked in the shadows...I barely ever heard him mentioned. But it seems it truly was him all along. Your story tonight - that the crown prince of Grado was being possessed by the Demon King - made me certain. After all, Riev was never one to get his own hands dirty - offering a young, vulnerable soul up to the Demon King was so very much like him. And yet, I had hoped I was wrong. That one of my own trusted attendants would participate in bringing about the destruction of Magvel...I truly was a fool for not acting sooner." Mansel looks far older than he is as he speaks.

"Uncle…" L'Arachel whispers.

"But I wished to preserve peace, even to the detriment of justice," Mansel continues, seemingly not hearing her. "I should have taken stronger action to prevent Riev's escape. After he disappeared, I should have warned the other nations of his actions here, of his attempting to summon the Demon King...but I did not, and now we find ourselves in this predicament. And, if truth be told...I cared deeply for Riev, once. He was a cherished friend. I had hoped that perhaps he had reformed, that he was finding honest work, wherever he was. I knew it was not likely. I knew he was far more likely to repeat his crimes than atone for them. And even though I knew that Riev was determined to free the Demon King, and I had to act to prevent this occurrence...I did nothing. I was sentimental, and passive, and a coward." Mansel shakes his head, eyes closed.

Beside L'Arachel, Eirika ducks her eyes to the ground.

Mansel sighs heavily, shaking his head once more. "I have undone all that my father and sister worked for...they would be terribly disappointed."

"Uncle...please don't say that," says L'Arachel, resting a hand on Mansel's shoulder. "You believed in your old friend, and you abhor conflict. You may have made a mistake, but Rausten will atone for it this day. I think Grandfather and Mother would understand."

"Gwa ha ha! Your niece is wise indeed, Your Holiness!" Dozla beams at Mansel. "And I don't think Lady Madelaine would be disappointed - on the contrary, she'd be angry! She'd tell you to stand up and fight back and stop feeling sorry for yourself! Ah, I saw that happen between the two of you so many times…"

"Thank you, L'Arachel, Dozla," says Mansel, smiling faintly. "You are correct...Madelaine would have no patience for this self-denigration. Regardless of what I have or haven't done...we must move ever forward. L'Arachel, are you prepared to retrieve Rausten's Sacred Stone?"

"I am, Uncle." L'Arachel straightens her back and nods. "I will return shortly!"

L'Arachel unlocks the throne room's back door and sets off, taking a back hallway to Rausten Hall's Sacred Temple. The temple is deserted at this late hour, pews empty, and L'Arachel's footsteps echo as she walks behind the pulpit to the back chambers. It has been many years since she climbed this marble staircase and opened the grand doors, conjuring a small, floating ball of light to guide her path. Still, the interior of the temple's inner sanctum is the same as it has always been. The shimmering seal of Latona is still fluttering like a bride's headdress. It twinkles in the faint glow of her light, and a slight twinge of relief eases L'Arachel's mind at the sight of it.

L'Arachel draws her staff, and then a breath. She holds the staff steady, closing her eyes. "O, Great Latona, grant me your blessing! I ask you for your aid, that I may fight the darkness and vanquish evil. I ask for the strength of Grado, the wisdom of Frelia, the courage of Sigmar, the fortitude of Audhulma, and the sure heart of Latona! For those that are afraid, I will stand tall. For those that suffer, I will grant aid. For those that weep, I will bring peace. For those that are weak, I will fight. May your divine light illuminate Magvel!" L'Arachel opens her eyes and twirls the staff around her head. "In your sacred name, I open this holy seal!"

The seal glows pale yellow-green; L'Arachel steps through it and into the inner sanctum. Her orb of light follows, her boots clicking on the marble tile as she approaches the reliquary and opens its doors. The contents are just as she remembers them. L'Arachel opens the small box on its dias and sees Rausten's Sacred Stone, letting out a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding at the sight of it, whole and unharmed.

_The last hope._

L'Arachel closes the box once more and lifts it from its dias, curling it tightly in her hand, and then turns to depart the temple. Her stomach still feels slightly sour with stress, but the mere presence of Rausten's Sacred Stone eases her mind somewhat. She leaves the temple and returns to the throne room, where the others are waiting.

L'Arachel opens the Stone's box to show them all. "Here it is - I'm holding it in my very hand! The Stone of Rausten! Its glorious radiance suits my complexion, wouldn't you say?"

"I would certainly say so, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla nods vigorously. "It is as though you were made to hold it!"

"Why, thank you, Dozla! I would say I was, as a matter of fact. It is my ancestor's Stone, after all!"

"This is it. The last one." Ephraim watches the stone gleam in its box. "The last remaining Sacred Stone."

L'Arachel closes the box and slips it into her inside dress pocket. "I will be certain to keep it safe. The time to defeat the Demon King draws near."

"Let us take tonight to rest and regroup after the battle, and then we shall be off to Darkling Woods. It is time to put an end to this." Eirika's eyes are thunderous. "I have made up my mind. I will lay Lyon to rest, and destroy the one who has imprisoned him."

"That is very noble of you, Eirika." L'Arachel smiles at her. "I am quite proud."

"You should all stop by the dining hall," says Mansel. "The kitchens have prepared a feast - it is rather cold by now, but still worth eating, I would say."

"That sounds lovely! We are all rather famished after that battle. Ah, Dozla, would you guide our guests there? There is one more thing I would like to discuss with my uncle."

"Right away, Princess! Come on, this way!" Dozla enthusiastically beckons to the group, and they all follow him out of the throne room. Eirika shoots L'Arachel a quick, curious look before departing.

Once they are gone, Mansel rises from his throne and turns to L'Arachel. "What is it that you did not wish to discuss in front of your friends?"

"I...there was something I wanted to tell you. Er, alone." L'Arachel twists her hands together. "This may not be the proper time for such a discussion, but, er...you recall the ruby you gave me?"

"Of course I do. Why do you mention it now? ...Ah." A smile spreads across Mansel's face. "Did you give it to someone?"

"I...I did, Uncle." L'Arachel bites her lip.

Mansel lifts an eyebrow. "...To Princess Eirika, possibly?"

"Wh-what?" L'Arachel can feel her face go bright red. "Uncle, h-how on earth did you know!?"

"It was a guess, from watching the two of you. You aren't exactly known for your subtlety, my dear. Then again, neither am I! So, how did it go?"

"Ah...she accepted it, but…" L'Arachel grips the fabric of her own glove. "I...I did not have the courage to tell her my true feelings. I treated it as a gift of friendship. I apologize, Uncle…"

"There isn't any need to apologize. If you feel Princess Eirika deserved the ruby, then I am happy you gave it to her. That is its purpose, after all. Even if it never returns to our family, it matters not." Mansel watches her carefully. "This may be an invasive question, L'Arachel...but do you love her?"

L'Arachel cannot meet her uncle's gaze, embarrassment and nerves clawing at her chest and stomach. "I...I do not know. We have only known one another for a matter of months, after all. But...I care very deeply for her, and she is my dearest friend, and I wish to be at her side always. That I can say for certain."

"And...romantically speaking? If you are comfortable telling me?"

"Romantically…" L'Arachel's face feels as though it is aflame. "That is...she is a remarkably beautiful woman, and...being with her...romantically...would be...would be quite lovely."

"Well, then, we shall see where things go from there, won't we?" Mansel pats L'Arachel's shoulder. "You need not look so distressed. Feelings of love and affection are no cause for shame. Have you told her any of your feelings?"

"It isn't the time," says L'Arachel at once. "We are at war, and she is terribly busy, and she is struggling with difficult feelings and circumstances. Besides, she...she might not feel the same way, and I would not want her to feel uncomfortable or burdened, and…"

"I understand, L'Arachel." Mansel holds up a hand. "You needn't say more. When you are ready…perhaps you should tell her. But there is no need to force things. I won't pry any further."

"Thank you, Uncle. I will...I will think on your words." L'Arachel takes a deep breath, willing her face to return to its normal color and temperature.

"She seems like a lovely young lady, though," Mansel muses, tapping his chin. "It would be quite nice to have her around the palace...and I would like to get to know the one who has stolen my niece's heart, and ensure her intentions are pure. Perhaps we could throw her a ball..."

_"Uncle!"_

"I am merely teasing, L'Arachel. Let us be off to dinner," Mansel winks at L'Arachel before heading off. L'Arachel glares at his back before following.

\---

"That was a lovely meal, wasn't it?" L'Arachel says briskly as she pushes open the door to her bedroom that night. "A tad cold, yes, but very enjoyable! The cooks of Rausten are some of the finest, and they outdid themselves!"

"Yes…" Eirika follows L'Arachel into the room. "Everything was delicious. I must apologize for my brother and Innes's behavior. I had thought they would control themselves better, as guests in somebody else's palace…"

"You're hardly their keeper, Eirika, you needn't apologize! Besides, their eating contest was rather amusing, even if it did leave behind something of a mess." L'Arachel walks over to a mirror and begins untying the ribbons binding her hair. "There are nightdresses in the top right drawer there - feel free to choose whichever pleases you most."

"Thank you." Eirika opens the drawer.

L'Arachel shakes out her hair, curls tumbling around her shoulders. "Ah, that's better." She steps behind a screen to put on her own nightgown. "It's lovely having a guest - I haven't had the opportunity before. When all this is over, you must come see me in Rausten sometime. Properly, for a real visit, when we aren't fighting a war."

"That sounds lovely. But I thought I was supposed to be inviting you to Renais?"

"I don't see why we can't do both!" L'Arachel emerges from behind the screen, nightgown-clad, and Eirika takes her place. "Visit one, then the other! Travel can be wearying, but adventure is such a joy. I would be thrilled to journey the continent with you someday, Eirika." L'Arachel tucks the Sacred Stone safely into her nightgown pocket - letting it off of her person, even overnight, is too great a risk for her to take.

"That does sound nice," Eirika's voice comes from behind the screen. "Once we've rebuilt Renais, that is…"

"A reconstruction effort I would be happy to assist with! Our countries shall be allies forevermore, and Rausten has weathered this war well. We will be able to provide plenty of financial and emotional support."

"I couldn't ask you to - "

"No, no! It is for the good of all of us! We must rejuvenate Magvel together. That is our duty as royalty, is it not?" L'Arachel turns down the bed covers. "I won't allow you to refuse, Eirika. You shall have my help whether you want it or not!"

Eirika comes out from behind the screen, twisting her long hair into a plait. "Very well, then. I suppose I have no choice but to accept. We won't have much to offer in return, though…"

"Friends don't do favors to receive favors back! It matters not to me." L'Arachel straightens. "Which side of the bed would you like?"

"Oh…" Eirika's face is slightly pink. "We're sharing the bed?"

"Is that not acceptable? The bed is quite large, and we shared a much smaller bed in that inn, and Tana said the two of you used to share beds during sleepovers...If you would be more comfortable, I can make other arrangements - "

"No, it's fine. I was...never mind." Eirika crawls into bed. L'Arachel follows her. The bed is wide enough that there are still several arms' lengths of space between them. L'Arachel puts out the lamp on her bedside table, and there is a moment of silence before Eirika speaks again.

"L'Arachel...we will be able to defeat the Demon King, won't we?"

"Why, of course! Our very own holy ancestors did it, did they not? There isn't any need for fear, Eirika. My blessed self will be with you, after all."

"Right…" There is a slight vibration going through the mattress, and L'Arachel realizes Eirika is trembling. "I just...I'm nervous, I suppose. This will be...unlike anything we've ever felt before."

"It's just another monster, Eirika." L'Arachel reaches through the dark and finds Eirika's hand with her own. "We've fought plenty of those, human and otherwise."

"Can you really be so sure? You're always so confident, so optimistic…it seems almost natural for you." L'Arachel hears Eirika swallow hard. "I don't...I don't understand how you can do it, L'Arachel."

"It may not be quite as natural as it seems," says L'Arachel softly. "I have told you how isn't always easy to smile...but it is what I choose to do. It is often difficult, but when I behave in a confident manner, it helps me be stronger, and it helps others as well. If my confidence ever should waver, I remember all who depend on me to light their paths, and I find the strength to believe in myself once more. I believe in myself because if I do not, I will surely crumble. If my faith runs out, where would I be?"

"That sounds lonely," Eirika whispers.

"Oh, do not get the wrong idea - most of the time I am very confident indeed! It is true that I possess an optimistic nature. And I am well aware of my many gifts and strengths! Perhaps I do put on airs, just a bit, but it is what has seen me through many battles and struggles. I try not to worry about things out of my control, and if something  _is_ within my control, I strive to put it to rights. Eventually, as long as I have courage, all will be well. That is my outlook."

There is the sound of shifting blankets, and then Eirika is suddenly only a few inches from L'Arachel. "L'Arachel...can I be close to you? Please? Even just for tonight...your touch always brings me courage."

"Of course," L'Arachel answers, turning towards her. Eirika comes closer, ginger at first but then wrapping her arms around L'Arachel's waist. L'Arachel settles her arms around Eirika. "Is this comfortable?"

"Yes…" Eirika says against L'Arachel's collarbone. "Thank you…Good night, L'Arachel."

They fall asleep that way, tangled together.

\---

Breakfast the next morning is somewhat subdued, the gravity of the approaching battle hanging over all their heads like a guillotine. Mansel and L'Arachel both trade jokes and banter, trying to lighten things, and Tana and Dozla make a similarly valiant effort, but everyone's tones are somewhat forced, stomachs clenched and hearts pounding. Anticipation lies thick in the air. L'Arachel herself keeps checking to be certain, but the Sacred Stone of Rausten is still safe in her pocket.

When the meal concludes, Eirika stands, pushing her chair back. "We should be leaving. We have to act before those creatures gain more momentum."

"Yes," Myrrh says quietly. "We should make haste. The poison spreads. It is growing ever stronger."

"Where?" Ephraim asks her.

"Darkling Woods…where the Demon King fell…" Myrrh fiddles with her porridge spoon. "That is where the Demon King's vessel has gone. It is the place where he fell, long ago...the place where he will be able to rise again."

"Very well." Eirika nods to Ephraim. "Brother, please ensure everyone is ready to depart, and gather in the front hall."

"I will make a few preparations and meet you all there," says Mansel, getting to his feet. "Please do not leave without speaking to me - it is of great import. I will see you all shortly."

The party disperses. L'Arachel and Eirika make their way back to L'Arachel's chambers to retrieve their things in relative quiet - until Eirika suddenly stops short.

"What is it?" L'Arachel turns and sees Eirika gazing at a painting. She realizes which one it is at once, and her stomach grows cold.

"L'Arachel…" Eirika looks at her. "Are these your parents?"

"...Yes. It is...the only painting ever made of them." L'Arachel comes to stand shoulder to shoulder with Eirika.

"Their faces...it was incomplete?" L'Arachel can only nod in assent. "So this...this is the only way you've ever seen them?"

L'Arachel nods again, drawing a steadying breath as she looks up at the painting. She has not seen it in such a long time that it hits her harder than it normally does - two figures the picture of nobility and regality, of heroism, of perfection, looking back down at her. Well, not looking, but - their grandeur radiates so strongly, and yet -

"I'm sorry, L'Arachel," says Eirika softly.

L'Arachel forces a bright smile, tearing her eyes from the painting. "What - whatever for? It is not as if I am unloved, or alone, or devoid of family! And you certainly didn't take their lives!"

"You needn't wear a mask for me, L'Arachel."

"What mask? It was a very long time ago. I do not remember them. Uncle and Dozla have taken excellent care of me. There is nothing to miss. Well, we should really be going - "

" _L'Arachel_." Eirika takes L'Arachel's hand as the latter turns to go, and L'Arachel turns back to face her. "That is not what you told me before. Please, don't lie to me."

"I didn't - I don't mean to lie. All I said was true. My parents died heroic deaths. I am quite proud of them. Why would I be sorrowful over people I never even met? I am too strong to weep over silly things, Eirika." L'Arachel's hands are shaking; she knows Eirika can feel it, and yet she can't stop them.

"You can miss them, too. You can wish for the memories you lack. You can even cry for them." Eirika does not release L'Arachel's hand. Eirika's eyes are so tender, so gentle, that just looking at them makes L'Arachel's own eyes burn. She looks away.

"I'm not...I don't…" L'Arachel swallows hard. "I am not weak."

"I know that you aren't." Eirika lifts L'Arachel's hand and covers it with her own. The shaking stills somewhat in her grasp. "Tears don't make you weak. Loneliness doesn't make you weak. Haven't you told me the same thing, so many times? You are strong, L'Arachel. You have incredible will, and bravery, and selflessness - your determination to make others smile when you yourself only wish to cry. I know that. I know you well enough by now to know when you are genuine...and you aren't now."

L'Arachel's voice trembles. "I...I cannot cry over something so foolish. A force of justice, a beacon of light...shouldn't be tearful."

"Says who?" L'Arachel looks back up to Eirika, whose eyes are filled with sadness. "L'Arachel...please don't give too much of yourself. You are always telling me to be kinder to myself...I think you should listen to your own words sometimes."

"I consider myself strong," says L'Arachel, willing her voice to stay steady. "I try to be strong always, to never let myself falter, even for a moment. But I...even I can't…"

"I know. I know."

"I want to be half the warriors my parents were," L'Arachel can't keep her voice above a whisper, and yet she knows Eirika is listening to every word. "I want to be like them, to emulate their heroism, to become a true queen worthy of taking the throne that was meant to be theirs...but sometimes I fear I will lose myself in their shadows. Shadows that are simply so large I may never escape them. I will always...I will always be their daughter first, and myself second."

"Not to me." Eirika's eyes are fierce as she looks down at L'Arachel. "I never even met your parents, L'Arachel. I'm sure they were wonderful. But I have only ever known you, and I think you are extraordinary."

L'Arachel closes her eyes; she can't bear to look into Eirika's a moment more.

"L'Arachel...you are a hero. If nobody else's, you're my hero. You've helped me climb out of the darkness, and I may still need help getting to the surface, but I know you'll be there, as you always are, extending a hand."

Eirika gives a little laugh, and L'Arachel's eyes snap back open in surprise.

"Now I know...how I make you feel." Eirika has dropped her gaze, her voice rueful. "Hearing you say such harsh things about yourself...it pains me deeply. If I have made you listen to that, for so long...it's given me something to think about."

"I didn't mean - "

"No, no apologies. This is about you, not me." Eirika looks back at L'Arachel. "Please, if you need someone to cry to, if you're lonely, if you miss your parents, or you feel their burden on your back...I am here. I won't tell another soul. Come to me, say whatever you need to, cry all you like, be whoever you want to be...I won't think any less of you for doing so, nor should you think any less of yourself."

"...Okay." L'Arachel rubs a hand quickly across her eyes. "I...I will be certain to do that."

"Good. That's all I can ask." Eirika smiles softly. She lifts a hand to L'Arachel's cheek, gently brushing away the tear there. And then she pauses. Eirika's finger is just barely resting against L'Arachel's face, their other hands held, their faces close together, L'Arachel's head tilted slightly to look up at Eirika's. The moment is infinitesimal, and eternal, and ephemeral, and Eirika's lips part slightly, and then -

"What are you two doing standing here?" Tana pops out of a side hall. "We're about ready to go! Ephraim sent me looking…"

Eirika immediately lowers her hand. "O-Oh, right! Just a few moments, we'll be right there!"

"Now's not the time for canoodling, you know." Tana leans against the wall, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "There's a war, you might've noticed that...Demon King coming back to life…"

Eirika turns beet red, and L'Arachel's own cheeks are hot. They quickly release each other's hands and leap apart. Eirika turns on her heel and practically runs back to L'Arachel's bedroom.

L'Arachel takes a deep breath, trying to recover from her heart suddenly stopping. Tana sidles up to her, still bearing a catlike grin. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen her blush that much...You be good to her now, you hear?"

"G-good to her?" L'Arachel coughs. "I - nothing was happening! Is happening! Has ever happened!"

Tana pats her on the back. "Okay, sweetie. I believe you. But I'm rooting for you two, okay? In your corner, here."

Eirika reappears at the end of the corridor, holding her and L'Arachel's bags. "O-okay, I got our things! We can go now!" She races right past L'Arachel and Tana back in the direction of the front hall.

Tana shoots L'Arachel one more wink before following Eirika. L'Arachel sighs and shoots one last quick glance at her parents' portrait.

Her eye is immediately drawn to her father's ruby ring. She stares for a second before shaking herself and continuing down the hall, back to where the others are.

\---

"Okay, we're ready to depart." Eirika looks around at the gathered company. "We make for Darkling Woods - and the Demon King. It is time to end this."

Mansel hugs L'Arachel. "L'Arachel, must you leave so soon? You've only just returned, and you have to leave?"

"Uncle, defeating evil is the highest calling I can perform," L'Arachel answers.

"Of course, my dear." Mansel strokes his beard, brow creased with worry. "It is a divine calling, but…"

"You needn't worry, Uncle. After all, I'm not on my own. I have my friends."

"I see." Mansel rests a hand on L'Arachel's shoulder. "You've been blessed, L'Arachel. Blessed with many good friends."

"I am indeed, Uncle." L'Arachel beams. "And they, in turn, are blessed with me! Farewell, Uncle. I shall return. Once evil has been vanquished, we'll all return safe and sound." She turns to race for the doors.

Mansel lifts a hand. "Hold on. Not so fast now. I have something I wish to present to Princess Eirika."

Eirika blinks. "To me, Your Holiness?"

"Yes, Princess. I'd like you to accept this gift." Mansel holds out a staff and tome to Eirika, and L'Arachel recognizes them at once.

"Oh! Aren't those…aren't those the Sacred Twins of Rausten?"

"That's right, dear niece. These are the weapons of Saint Latona, most holy founder of Rausten. Here, we have glorious Ivaldi, and its twin, the divine Staff of Latona. I will also spare some funding to feed and arm your forces. After all, these is much that you must do before you leave these halls."

Eirika takes Ivaldi and Latona, and L'Arachel studies them carefully. They are very beautiful, and nearly humming with the amount of sacred magic they emit.

"So they are the blessed Latona's most sacred relics…" says L'Arachel. "Is this allowed?"

"I know the law, L'Arachel. The relics must never leave the temple, with the sole exception of the occasional ascension ceremony, but I think that, when the world needs saving, we can make the odd exception." Mansel winks.

L'Arachel clasps her hands together in excitement. "That's my uncle!"

"You will return them, of course…once you've finished your task. Princess Eirika, I would have your oath on this."

"Of course." Eirika bows. "You have my word. We shall return safely, and we shall restore your relics."

A Knight of Rausten runs up to L'Arachel as the rest of the company begins to leave the palace. "Princess L'Arachel!"

L'Arachel turns to face him. Several other knights stand with him, the ones who had aided the group the night before. She clears her throat to address them. "My beloved countrymen! The combat was fierce, but you protected the palace honorably. The valorous Knights of Rausten shall live on in story and song!"

"Thank you, my lady. As always, it is our honor to serve. Princess L'Arachel, before you leave, please take this sword." The leading man bows as he passes her an elegantly carved, faintly glowing sword - a Light Brand, L'Arachel quickly realizes, a rare export of Rausten.

"Thank you," says L'Arachel as she takes the sword. "It is most kind of you, but this is a rare blade. Whatever is the occasion?"

The man drops his eyes slightly. "My father was given one for his noble actions as a general of Rausten some time ago, and he passed it to me. You saved my life last night when you healed me, Your Highness, and I thought it was the best way to repay you. The other men all agreed."

"You needn't repay me! Healing is my sworn duty. I can't take something that belonged to your father - "

"No, I insist! The Demon King threatens us all, my lady. I have no use for such a sword if the world falls to darkness! I would much rather you and your company use it to bring light back to us all." The man nods. "It may be impudent, but I refuse to accept the return of the sword!"

"...Very well, then. If it makes it through the incoming battles, I will bring it safely back to you." L'Arachel smiles at the man. "I will deliver it to Princess Eirika's convoy at once."

"Thank you for accepting, Your Highness!" The knight and his fellows all salute. "We pray for your swift and safe return!"

"As long as the righteousness of justice fills our hearts, how can we lose? Men, I ask that you watch after my dear uncle."

"You have our world, my lady. In the twin names of justice and order!"

"I will return soon, everyone!" L'Arachel calls to the court, waving. "Come along, Dozla, Rennac! We ride towards destiny!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter in canon makes me have a lot of Emotions. I hope I've somewhat done it justice.


	9. Sacred Stones

It does not take long to arrive in Darkling Woods. A sickly darkness has been seeping through the land, going stronger the closer the army gets - but when L'Arachel crosses the border, it hits her in waves. The same darkness Lyon emanated - but coming from everywhere at once. L'Arachel is somewhat acclimated to it by now, but she is still forced to take deep breaths to settle her churning stomach, clamping her hands on Theia's reins.

Even members of the company less accustomed to the nuances of light can feel it. Ephraim looks worriedly out at the forest ahead of them, his horse pawing nervously at the ground. "This awful darkness…"

"I know…I can feel it too." Eirika's face is set and steady, but her eyes belie that facade.

"So this is Darkling Woods…" Seth murmurs. "It was here the heroes met the Demon King, and with the Sacred Stones defeated him. I've heard the lingering energies of that battle are the source of the monsters. But I never imagined it would be as bad as this…"

"It never was when I came here in previous years," L'Arachel answers. "Myrrh, this is the Demon King, isn't it?"

Myrrh nods, hugging her small frame and shrinking closer to Ephraim. "It's worse than before…it's grown so much stronger. Simply standing here is a struggle…but we don't need to worry. My father is here. He'll take care of everything."

"Your father?" Eirika asks.

"Over there." Myrrh points across the forest's murky depths. "On the other side of that swamp is the Black Temple of the Demon King. My father stands guard near it. This is where my father and I have lived for as long as I can remember."

"I see," says Ephraim. "So this forest is like a home to you."

"Uh-huh…" A smile spreads across Myrrh's face as she clasps her hands together. "I get to see Father again. I'm so happy. My foster father leads the dragon tribe. In the last great war…both of my true parents were killed. Morva took me in and raised me as though I were his own child."

"So that's how you came to live here…" Eirika looks across the desolate landscape.

"My father holds back the monsters that are born in Darkling Woods. He's so strong, and so very gentle. One day, I hope to be like him…" Myrrh suddenly gasps, recoiling.

Eirika whirls around to face her. "Myrrh, what's wrong?"

"Princess Eirika, Prince Ephraim, we're under attack!" One of the Renais soldiers comes riding up to them. "A horde of those foul beasts is headed straight for us - a massive number of them!"

"We must do our divine duty, then!" says L'Arachel, whipping out her tome. "Let me at them!"

Myrrh is shaking like a leaf in the wind, her face pale, eyes big. She looks as though she is about to be sick.

Eirika bends down from her mount, peering concernedly at Myrrh's face. "Myrrh, are you well? If you're ill, we should get you to - "

Myrrh takes a rasping gulp of air, then shakes her head. "No, no…it's nothing. I'll fight with you. I'll fight, and we'll drive back the dark children." She unfurls her wings.

"Is it the dark energies?" L'Arachel asks gently. "I can feel it too. Try and take deep breaths. Keep your mind clear, and it can't touch you."

"Yes...the dark energies. I...I will do that. Thank you, Mistress L'Arachel." Myrrh straightens, holding her chin up. "Let's go. The Black Temple lies ahead...we must make our way there, and break through its...its guardian. Then we can stop the ritual to rise the Demon King."

"Let us move out then!" Eirika turns to face the gathered army. "Everyone...today is our final battle. We act as one to save our world. We have fought so hard, and sacrificed so much...but today, it will all be worth it! Today, we will bring about an end to all this. Like the Five Heroes before us, today we fell the Demon King! Now, we ride!"

Everyone cheers, and then the monsters are upon them, and the fight for their lives begins.

There are so terribly many monsters - more than L'Arachel has ever seen in one place, of every kind, stronger than those they have encountered before. For each one that falls, more appear, flooding the woods with their foul stench. Still, the company presses forward, everyone fighting with renewed vigor, weapons flashing and magic flying. Myrrh is no longer holding back her power, taking the form of a large and strong dragon, tearing through several monsters at a time with her full strength.

As they approach the temple, L'Arachel hears cackling - a familiar cackling, and her blood both runs cold and boils at the same time, for she recognizes it.

 _"...Soon…it happens soon! The Demon King will be restored to all his former glory! ...This fierce beast and I will guard the Black Temple's entrance. As long as we stand watch, no one will interrupt his rituals. We will drown all who dare approach in this virulent mud!"_ Riev's voice devolves into cackling once more.

"Eirika." L'Arachel's voice is calm, but a furious fire is building in her throat. "Riev is here. He is the man guarding the temple."

"He sounds mad," says Eirika softly. "And he seems to have a dracozombie with him…"

"I do not know if he is mad or not," L'Arachel answers grimly. "But he is formidable, and the dracozombie certainly will be as well. We must be on our guard."

They approach the temple, and L'Arachel is unsurprised to see Riev standing beside it. A massive dracozombie, larger than any L'Arachel has ever seen, easily dwarfing Myrrh's own form, is seated on the temple steps, blocking the entrance. It catches sight of them and roars, spreading its massive, shredded wings. Myrrh makes a small, choked noise, almost a sob.

"Eirika. You and the others deal with the dracozombie," says L'Arachel in a low tone. "I ask that you leave Riev to me."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Riev is Rausten's mistake. I must clean up the mess we left behind. Besides...I believe I am more than capable of handling him, so long as I am cautious. The dracozombie is the bigger threat, and will require more of our forces."

"...Okay. But if you need us, just call." Eirika nods to Ephraim and Myrrh, and the three approach the dracozombie, while L'Arachel rides to face Riev.

Riev's eyes alight on L'Arachel, and when they do, recognition sparks within them.

"Former bishop of Rausten, Riev," L'Arachel says, her tone steady and firm. "It is time I put an end to your misdeeds."

Riev gives a low chuckle. "The young lady of Rausten…" A slow, cruel smile spreads across his face. "The more cruel and gruesome your death, the more that cur Mansel would weep, am I right? And that would make me so very, very happy."

L'Arachel tosses her hair. "Do you think your words will frighten me? I am the princess L'Arachel! Slaying demons is my forte!"

Riev fires.

L'Arachel swerves sideways, the blast hitting a tree behind her, and counters. Riev is not as fast as she, and the light hits him hard. He stumbles slightly with a grunt of pain, but stays upright. The smirk is gone from his face. He shoots once more - L'Arachel is not fast enough this time, and the light magic burns against her outstretched arm, but she ignores the pain, waving a hand over her tome and sending another jet of magic at Riev just as he extends a hand.

Riev's countering ray of light hits L'Arachel's, the two beams connected in midair, pushing hard against each other, sparks flying and illuminating the forest, just as they did in the Rausten throne room more than six years ago. Beads of perspiration dot L'Arachel's forehead as she maintains her light, and Riev growls, his hands shaking.

L'Arachel pushes harder. She will not give up, she will not falter. Not now. Rausten depends on her. Her uncle depends on her. The world depends on her. _Eirika_ depends on her.

"Your eyes annoy me…" Riev gasps for breath, his face soaked with sweat. "Why...do you not despair…why do you not...surrender…”

L'Arachel's eyes narrow. "One such as you could never understand." She summons all her strength, all her hope, all her light, all her love. "You who have sold your soul to the soulless… _I grant you release from your wretched existence._ "

Her ray of light glows, bright white, brighter than her uncle's, brighter than Riev's, brighter than the sun - and it shatters Riev's beam as it surges forward, unstoppable, and hits Riev in the chest. He screams, his legs buckling, and falls to the forest floor.

L'Arachel approaches, tome still held at the ready. Riev is barely still breathing, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. The chest of his robes and skin have been burned black by L'Arachel's spell, his tome lying abandoned in the grass.

Riev gives a strangled breath. "I knew...you had potential...you could have been...so much...more…"

"I am all that I wish to be," L'Arachel answers him, her expression disdainful, gazing at Riev. "All that you never were."

Riev coughs, blood staining his destroyed body. "…Even if you defeat me, you're too late to stop it. The one true demon…will rise…" His eyes roll back in his head, his body convulses, and his final breath wheezes out of him before his body is finally still.

"We'll see." L'Arachel dismounts and bends to pick up Riev's Aura tome before climbing back into her saddle. "I can slay another demon."

She shoots the shattered corpse one more contemptuous glance before riding to join the others.

The dracozombie's body is already dissolving when L'Arachel approaches the Black Temple stairs. Eirika turns at the sound of L'Arachel's approach. "I trust all went well? We saw the flashes of light…"

"Yes...that monster is finally gone from this world, and it is a better place for it. It seems you finished your task as well?"

Eirika nods. "Everyone is unharmed, and with the commander fallen, the monsters are in disarray. We should be able to make it into the temple with no problem. I've summoned everyone to meet here."

Ephraim looks up at the temple. "So this is the Black Temple…The Demon King is here."

"We have to stop him before he can begin the ritual." Eirika's gaze is as steely as her sword. "Let's waste no time, Brother."

Myrrh emerges from the surrounding forest. Her eyes are red.

"Myrrh…" Eirika frowns. "What is it?"

Myrrh twists her hands together, and Eirika takes her gently aside, Ephraim following.

The army is reconvening, arriving in small squads to gather at the Black Temple's entrance. Dozla comes running up to them from the forest's depths. "Oh ho! It's good to see you safe, Lady L'Arachel!"

"Did you have any doubts, Dozla? Riev is dead. I have seen to it as such. And now, the Black Temple can be freely entered! A resounding victory."

"Great. A fight to the death. With a demon god. Lovely." Rennac scowls. "I thought this was just going to be a bodyguarding gig for a few months, and now here we are…"

"You can't simply turn back when we're this close to the end, Rennac! Don't be silly. That would be most unsatisfying!"

Natasha walks over to them, cutting off Rennac's answering protests. "Lady L'Arachel, you're injured…"

"Oh? I'd quite forgotten." L'Arachel looks down at the burn on her arm, the only mark Riev had left on her.

"Here…" Natasha takes L'Arachel's arm and lifts her staff to it, the wound healing in seconds.

L'Arachel nods to her. "Thank you, Sister."

"It is no trouble," says Natasha softly. "It is dreadful that a supposed...holy man would do such a thing. I cannot fathom…"

"Some people," says L'Arachel slowly, recalling Saaga's words from years before, "are simply drawn to power, and will seek it out regardless of whether said power is a kindly one or wicked. Riev once was a holy man, it's true...but it's possible he was only seeking to use the gods' powers to his own end. Then again, he may have once been a truly pious man, but his greedy quest took him under the Demon King's wing. We will never know now."

"I suppose it doesn't matter," says Natasha. "He did evil things - what god he was in service to makes little difference in the end."

"Well put, Sister. I could not have said it better myself." L'Arachel glances down at Riev's light tome. "Light magic or dark...they are merely weapons in the end, and what matters is the type of person who wields it."

"Yes…" Natasha sighs. "It is tragic, but such a man could not be allowed to continue on in such a fashion. I am glad he can no longer disgrace Grado's church in such a way. Thank you for disposing of him." She nods and then hurries off to her next patient.

Eirika, Ephraim, and Myrrh reemerge from the woods. Ephraim has a protective arm around Myrrh's shoulders.

Eirika looks around the crowd. "Before we challenge the Demon King...Tana, L'Arachel, Innes, Joshua...you are all gathered here. Dozla, please fetch Ewan, General Dussel, and Knoll. Seth, please have the convoy wagon brought here. There is one more thing I wish to do."

Dozla nods and Seth bows; before long, everyone is assembled in front of the convoy wagon. Eirika emerges from within it, her arms full of parcels. "If we are facing the Demon King...we must be armed appropriately. That means...it is time to use the Sacred Twins we have been entrusted with. I have Sieglinde, and Ephraim has Siegmund."

Eirika unwraps the first parcel, revealing Frelia's bronze Sacred Twins. "Innes, here is Nidhogg. Tana, Vidofnir."

Innes takes the bow with a nod and holds it up, testing the string. Tana practically bounces when Eirika hands her Vidofnir. "Thanks, Eirika! Nobody'll stop me with this!"

"And here are Jehanna's Twins…" Eirika continues. "Joshua, take Audhulma, and Ewan, I entrust you with Excalibur."

Joshua looks at the blade, his expression soft and contemplative. Ewan beams. "Check it out, Tethys! I get a holy weapon!"

His sister laughs softly. "You're the only Jehannan mage we've got, silly. Who else would she give it to?"

Ewan pouts. _"Sis."_

"I'm teasing, I'm teasing...Take good care of it, now."

"And, now, Grado's Twins...General Duessel, Garm is yours, and Knoll, take Gleipnir."

"Princess, I cannot accept…" Knoll begins, and Eirika shakes her head, pushing the book into his hands.

"You deserve it, Knoll. I won't hear another word. Don't use it if you don't want to, but it's yours to hold regardless."

Duessel bows low as he takes Garm. "I will use it well, milady."

"That is all I ask. And L'Arachel...both Ivaldi and Latona are yours."

"Really?" L'Arachel blinks. "Both of them?"

"You are adept in both light and staff," says Eirika, handing the weapons to her. "They are your ancestor's, aren't they? Either way...I trust you. I know you will use them both well."

"Thank you, Eirika." L'Arachel carefully studies Ivaldi and Latona. They both hum with power, but feel comfortable in her hands regardless.

"We'll definitely stand a strong chance with these," Joshua comments, twirling Audhulma through the air. "I like the look of our odds."

"Those of you with Sacred Twins - you will be our strike force, against the Demon King himself," says Eirika. "The rest will be tasked with keeping the enemy's monsters off our backs so we can do what must be done. Is everyone prepared?"

"Let's hurry, Mistress Eirika," says Myrrh, tugging on Eirika's cape. Her voice is small, but firm.

"Myrrh...I understand." Eirika lifts her head high. "Let's get moving. The faster we can end this nightmare, the better."

Myrrh turns to face the Black Temple. "From this building…a repulsive energy oozes. The Demon King…he's here."

\---

The inside of the temple is dark and decayed. The evil magic fills the air, chokes every breath, cushions every step, much like the foul mold that crawls up the temple's walls and coats its floors. The Sacred Stone in L'Arachel's pocket feels warm, like a beacon, guarding her. L'Arachel is unsure if it is truly doing so, or if it is only in her imagination - but nonetheless, it gives her strength.

Lyon is standing there, his robes dragging in the ground's filth. At the sound of their approach, he turns.

"Lyon!" Eirika calls.

Lyon looks at her. His eyes look weary, defeated. He is thin and bedraggled, hair a tangled mess around his face, his skin a sickly, yellowish pale. While a dreadful aura still emanates from his walking corpse, the sinister gleam isn't in his eyes, only empty, raw pain. "...Eirika..."

"Lyon..." Eirika's eyes widen. "It is you, isn't it, Lyon...! Really you..."

"Yes...but I'm...I'm almost completely gone," Lyon stumbles, but regains his footing. "Before I'm lost entirely, I want to apologize. I'm sorry, Eirika. This is all my fault. I was too weak..."

"You're not to blame, Lyon," Eirika answers softly. "It was the Demon King. He was controlling you…"

Lyon shakes his head. "No, that's not true, Eirika. When the Demon King reached into me from inside the Dark Stone...when he whispered he would see all my dreams and desires made true...I...I did not reject him. In the shadows of my heart, he saw jealousy...vanity...It was my weakness that put these emotions there, allowed them to thrive."

"Everyone has weaknesses, Lyon," Eirika's face is gentle. "You're not the only one. I do. I'm sure my brother does...Don't hate yourself for having these feelings, please."

Lyon closes his eyes, a faint smile crossing his face. "Thank you, Eirika. You were always...so kind. The Demon King will claim my flesh as a vessel for his resurrection. Before that can happen…I want you to kill me. I'm sorry, Eirika. I'm already - " Lyon breaks off, freezing and doubling over.

Eirika bows her head. Lyon's body straightens, and the darkness flows forth - L'Arachel shudders as another wave of it hits them.

"Oh, please..." Lyon's voice is now sardonic and mocking - the Demon King fully back in control. "Are you done turning your failings into some sad epic of personal tragedy? ...It's time we started, then. I have a ritual to complete...and some nuisances to kill."

Eirika's head snaps up, eyes flashing. " _Shut your mouth._ I won't allow you to desecrate Lyon's body any further. You will not return to this world. I will stop you myself if I must."

The Demon King's eyes actually widen in surprise, but his leering smirk quickly returns. "Ah, is that so? Do you honestly think yourself capable, wench? You once prayed for this fool's salvation. Can you bring yourself to kill him...?”

Eirika's eyes are a vortex, a thunderstorm, a hurricane, her back straight and proud. "I can and I will. I made a promise to Lyon, and I intend to honor it."

She lunges at the Demon King suddenly, and his face is filled with shock in the instant before he vanishes, Eirika's blade cutting through the empty air where he stood.

The Demon King reappears at the back of the temple's upper level. His cackling rings through the air as monsters manifest throughout the room, crowding the temple's crumbling halls. "Come, and face your death! I'm waiting, you miserable fool. Your corpse will make a perfect offering in my resurrection!"

Eirika turns to them all, her eyes murderous. "Let's go, everyone! To the top of the temple! It's time to end this!"

One final time, they charge.

\---

Lyon's magic crackles around his hands, purple lightning that flies in arcs towards all of them. L'Arachel, Tana, and Ewan block all the hits they can, with L'Arachel healing those they cannot. Innes's arrows arc towards Lyon, a few burying themselves in his back. Tana bashes the Demon King's head with her lance, her pegasus shielding her from his magic. Excalibur whirls from Ewan's outstretched palms, tearing ribbons in Lyon's skin and robes. Yet despite all the visible damage Lyon's body has suffered, he remains standing.

"He's grown far more powerful than when we fought him last," says L'Arachel grimly. "The ritual must be nearly complete."

"How is he surviving this?" Eirika asks, watching Ephraim bury Siegmund in Lyon's back - he is then forced to jump back as the Demon King counters with another blast of dark magic. "He should be long dead, no human body could - "

"He _is_ dead, Eirika," says L'Arachel, casting a healing spell on Duessel. "But the Demon King can maintain his hold on him even in death, until the body is entirely unusable. So...add that to the Demon King's incredible natural defenses, and he can remain standing far longer than he should."

Eirika lifts Sieglinde. "Lyon...I hope you're watching. I will defeat the Demon King."

Lyon sneers. "Hah, do you really think your blade can hurt me? Cut me and see! If you can even hit me, that is."

"We'll see," Eirika answers. "Everyone, we can do this - just keep the barrage going!" She charges.

L'Arachel fires Ivaldi's light, hitting the Demon King in the face, and even as his flesh begins to melt, his smile remains. Joshua appears on Lyon's left and with a whirl of his blade, cuts off one of his hands. The Demon King begins to stumble backwards, firing a counterattack with his remaining arm, but Joshua nimbly dodges, and in that opening Eirika strikes - riding faster than L'Arachel can even clearly see her - she buries Sieglinde in Lyon's chest, pulls it free, and stabs again, throwing her entire weight into the strike.

Lyon's mouth opens as his body falls from Eirika's sword. A horrible, screaming laughter rings through the room, and Lyon lands limply in the ground in front of Eirika's horse's hooves, a heap of blood, black-and-purple robes, and tattered violet hair. His tome skids across the floor, falling off a ledge.

Eirika dismounts, rushing to Lyon's broken, shattered body, blade held at the ready, but then she pauses. "L...Lyon!"

"Be careful, Eirika!" Ephraim shouts, leaping from his own horse and running over.

"It's all right." Eirika sheathes Sieglinde and crouches beside her friend's prone form. "He's Lyon. Lyon…" She brushes her friend's hair back from his ruined face.

"It...is, isn't it." Ephraim kneels too, reaching for Lyon's remaining hand and grasping it in his own. "Can you hear us, Lyon?"

"...Ei...Eirika…" Lyon's voice is destroyed and tattered. The rest of the army is climbing the stairs, gathering around, but staying back from where the twins are now cradling Lyon between them.

Lyon coughs. "Eirika...Ephraim...is...that...you?"

"Yes, Lyon. It's us. We're here." Eirika's voice is soft and gentle, as if comforting a child.

"Eirika...you stopped me, didn't you…I'm glad." Lyon's eyes slide closed.

"Lyon...Lyon..." Eirika rocks him gently. "It's okay. Rest now..."

"Listen...Eirika...Ephraim...I never had the courage to tell...either of you...but...I've always...loved..."

His head falls against Ephraim's chest, and he goes still.

"Lyon…" Eirika whispers, her voice thick with tears. Ephraim doesn't say anything, his eyes watering, just lowers his head and rests his cheek against the top of Lyon's head, pulling both him and Eirika close. The three stay locked that way for just a moment - and the room goes dark, and the vile energy resurges.

The twins look up in shock, and then Lyon's body vanishes from their arms.

"What!?" Ephraim's tearstained face darkens. "This..."

"Brother...Lyon's body!" Eirika's hand flies to her sword. "It's..."

A twisted voice, somewhat like Lyon's, echoes through the room, which grows still darker until it is pitch-black. "The time has come...my resurrection is at hand…"

"No…" Eirika's voice comes through the darkness.  "I thought...I thought it was over..."

The Demon King laughs. "Now, humans…Lament your fate. Weep for the dead. Despair for the living. Wail and tremble in grief. Grovel in awe and fear. _I am returned_."

A flash of violet lightning, a horrible rumbling sound, and a noise like a scream - all ring out at once, and then L'Arachel's vision returns, and a monster stands at the highest point of the temple - eldritch, hideous, dreadful.

"Is…" Eirika's voice trembles. "Is that...the...Demon King..."

"Eirika. We are all here," L'Arachel says softly.

Ephraim nods, standing. "Don't be afraid, Eirika."

Eirika gets to her feet, drawing a deep breath, her fingers tightening on Sieglinde's hilt. She straightens to her full height, chin lifted, eyes flashing thunder. "I...I am not afraid. Not anymore. I have everyone with me. I have my own strength, the strength I fought to find. I did not come this far to die here. I'm going to avenge Lyon, and everyone else who perished at this monster's hands. Once and for all, with everyone at my side...I am going to destroy the Demon King."

"Well said, Sister," says Ephraim, a grin spreading across his face. "I can hardly wait!"

"L'Arachel!" Eirika turns to face L'Arachel. "It's time. We have to use the final Sacred Stone. We must use its power against the Demon King, as in the stories of old!"

L'Arachel withdraws the Sacred Stone, taking it from its box. "You must listen to me, Eirika. The stories are true; the stone does hold the power to stop the Demon King. However, the source of its power is human will, the desire for peace within our hearts."

"In our hearts..." There is something indescribable in Eirika's eyes, something L'Arachel does not understand, as Eirika looks at her.

"Yes, that's right." L'Arachel places the Sacred Stone in Eirika's palm. "We need not pray for the Sacred Stones to aid us now. No, we need only focus ourselves and concentrate on a better future."

"I understand, L'Arachel. Listen, everyone. I can never repay you for all you've done so far. Now, please, one last time...Lend me your strength." Eirika lifts the Sacred Stone above her head. "To defeat the Demon King! To restore peace to our lands! To take the peace we all dream of and make it real!"

Rausten's Stone begins to glow in Eirika's hand, first softly, then stronger and stronger. It lifts into the air of its own accord, shining as brightly as a star, a tiny sun, illuminating the dark, filthy room.

The Demon King gives a low, angry growl. "Abominable Sacred Stone...I will not suffer imprisonment again. How…you possess only one...do not fool yourselves. You cannot fully imprison me...I will grind that wretched rock and your accursed bones to powder!"

Eirika narrows her eyes. "You still haven't learned...I came here to defeat you. My hope, the light my friends have helped me find...they are stronger than your evil. _I am not afraid of you, Demon King._ "

The Demon King gives a shriek of rage, and the Sacred Stone's light becomes a beacon, filling the room, flooding it with vivid bright light. A flash, and then the light goes out, and the Stone stops floating, falling into Eirika's outstretched hand.

"There!" Eirika holds up the Stone; a small dark stain of smoke is within its yellow-green sheen. She gives it back to L'Arachel.

"We did it. The Demon King's soul has been bound once more," says L'Arachel, taking the Stone and quickly stowing it away. "But, Eirika, it's not over yet. The Demon King's soul rages against its prison. We must return it to its proper place–and quickly. But first, we must defeat the Demon King's soulless body!"

Eirika looks at the towering form of the Demon King. "That thing..."

L'Arachel nods. "The real battle's just beginning. Our ancestors paid dearly for their victory. A mountain of corpses...It's written the Demon King was surrounded by the dead before he finally fell."

"We're all prepared to do what must be done," says Seth, lifting his lance. "If it takes our lives, so be it."

Eirika narrows her eyes. "No. I have no desire to make any more heartbreaking sacrifices. I promised we would all return safely, and return safely we shall!"

L'Arachel brandishes Latona, twirling it over her head. "Well said, Eirika! I, L'Arachel, strike in the name of righteousness, order, and Rausten!"

Dozla comes running up at her side. "Gwah ha ha! Same goes for me!"

"Come on..." Rennac trails after Dozla, staring up at the monster. "You can't be serious! But I've come this far..."

Eirika readies Sieglinde. "This is our final battle. Sacred Twin wielders, to me! The rest of you, keep those monsters off our backs! _Let's finish this."_

They charge.

Fomortiis's body can make no sounds beyond incoherent shrieks and howls of rage. Its massive arms swat at them, its wicked eyes glowing, horrible magic emanating from its frame - bursts of wicked purple lightning that erupt wherever the army stands. Tana pelts it with blows from the air, Innes raining down Nidhogg's arrows from where he sits behind her. Joshua, Ephraim, and Duessel charge at Fomortiis's sides, slashing at every bit of foul flesh they can reach. Ewan and Knoll's robes are crackling with magic as they keep an all-out assault going. Eirika drags her blade in a long arc through Fomortiis's lower half, making it wobble dangerously. L'Arachel readies Ivaldi and with it, rains down the heavens' wrath. Fomortiis can only scream in pain as it retaliates - the next wave of its magic knocks everyone off their feet, several falling into unconsciousness, Tana's pegasus nearly crashing as she struggles to right it.

L'Arachel struggles to sit, flung from Theia's back, and reaches for Latona. It is stronger than any staff she has held in her life - only a thought, and a warmth pours from it, flooding the room, reinvigorating them all. The army rights themselves as one, and the attack continues.

"Well done, L'Arachel," Eirika shouts, scrambling onto Freyja's back and charging Fomortiis once more.

"I can only do it twice more before the spell lifts," L'Arachel answers her. "We need to end this fast!"

"That won't be a problem!" Tana pulls her arm back and hurls Vidofnir directly into one of Fomortiis's eyes; it staggers and begins to fall sideways. It counters with the remaining eye, catching Tana's pegasus's wing. The pegasus begins to fall; Tana is forced to leap from its back and roll, landing with a grunt of pain.

"Tana!?" Eirika cries. "Tana!"

"I'm okay!" Tana struggles to her feet, one hand clutching her side, and rushes to her fallen pegasus. "Don't worry! Just kill it - it's only at half power now, with one eye out!"

"You're speaking my language!" Joshua leaps onto one of Fomortiis's outstretched arms, plunging Audhulma into a crack in its thick skin; it screeches, flinging him off, but he leaps free before it can hit him. Innes fires more arrows that lodge themselves in Fomortiis's thick hide, Ephraim plunges Seigmund into its chest, and it doubles over with another scream - its retaliating magic catching both Innes and Ephraim and sending them sprawling.

L'Arachel recasts Latona. "Only one more use!"

"No need for it!" Eirika is galloping, full-speed, at Fomortiis's bent form; it looks up and sees her, but its swing comes moments too late: Eirika leaps from her horse, blade held over her head in both hands; she buries it in the top of Fomortiis's head, just behind its skull, her entire weight behind her weapon as she lands. There is a flash of light - and Fomortiis, screams, flails, thrashes, howls with pain - and dissolves, its body crumbling around and beneath Eirika, who falls through empty air, landing neatly in a crouched position.

For a moment, there is only silence - and then Tana lifts her hands over her head in a scream of joy. _"We won!"_

That breaks the dam; laughter and cries of relief erupt through the army. The dark energy has lifted, the monsters dissolved - the only thing remaining in the room is Eirika's army, converging on the place where the Demon King fell, celebrating, embracing. _Living_.

Eirika gets shakily to her feet. "That's it. It's over, isn't it..."

L'Arachel walks over to her. "Yes. Evil has been imprisoned, locked away. The legends of old have been mirrored in our actions today."

Innes shakes his head. "No, we've done far more than the legends ever told. We've destroyed the Demon King's body. He can never come back."

"Never, ever!" Tana says cheerfully, bouncing over to them and throwing an arm around her brother's shoulder. "Did you see how I smashed his eye? Wasn't that neat? Who's the immature one now, huuuh?"

"Still you," Innes grumbles. Tana sticks her tongue out at him.

Eirika shakes her head, smiling. "Tana's right. We have you all to thank for it."

"Give yourself more credit, Eirika! That big mighty hero jump? Pretty amazing!" Tana gives Eirika a light punch on the shoulder. "Fomortiis was quaking in his...um...his weird gooey trunk thing!"

Joshua nods, carefully cleaning monster gore off Audhulma's blade. "I knew I bet right. Well done, Princess Eirika."

Ephraim shakes his head, but he is smiling. "And another thing....In that ancient battle, it took the might of the five heroes to do what we did. We did not have their extraordinary power to draw upon."

"No, we didn't. We conquered darkness and restored peace to the land, thanks to you. To all of you." Eirika turns to face the gathered company, her eyes soft. "It was because you never gave in, and you never stopped fighting. None of you, not once. Thank you..."

L'Arachel rests a hand on her shoulder. "And thank you, Princess Eirika. Without your leadership, and your undying courage, we would never have even made it here."

Eirika covers L'Arachel's hand with her own, smiling. "We've really done it. Finally...all the ones we've lost...they can finally rest."

"Gwa ha ha!" Dozla comes up to them. "That was some excellent magic back there, Princess!"

"Yeah, sure. I was mostly trying to not die, but it was probably cool. Or something." Rennac shrugs.

L'Arachel turns to face the two. "Dozla, Rennac. We've done it."

"Gwaa ha ha! And a job well done it was, Princess L'Arachel." Dozla's eyes are twinkling. "Your mother and father would be proud, milady. Your Uncle will be, as well. And _I_ am proud."

"...Thank you, Dozla. Your stalwart companionship was, as always a boon."

Rennac sighs and stretches. "It's finally over. So it's about time for me to..." He turns away.

"Hold it!" L'Arachel orders imperiously. "I gave you no orders to leave! I am the princess of Rausten, lest you forget. I have many missions yet to fulfill."

"But…" Rennac sighs again. "...Yeah, okay. Whatever."

A group of Renais soldiers runs up to Eirika, Ephraim, and Seth. "General! Princess Eirika! We can finally return to Renais, can't we?"

Eirika closes her eyes. "Yes, Franz. We can go home. All of us unharmed..."

"The reconstruction of Renais is going to be busy. Keep your strength up, all of you. I'm going to need you in the days ahead," Ephraim addresses them.

"All right, let's go home." Eirika tilts her head up, looking through the temple walls. "Let's go back...to the people who are waiting for us."

"Yes, let's!" L'Arachel swings a leg over her horse's back, climbing back up. "We must head to Rausten Hall at once to greet my uncle and return the Sacred Twins. Come, Dozla, Rennac. It's time to go!" She speeds off towards the Black Temple doors

"Gwaa ha ha! Wait up, Lady L'Arachel!" Dozla calls, hurrying after her. "Let's move, Rennac!"

Rennac sighs.

\---

The journey back to Rausten Hall is a joyous one, but it feels all too brief - it seems like before L'Arachel even knows it, she is entering the palace hall once again, this time still more triumphant and glorious than she has ever been before.

"Uncle!" L'Arachel waves with her entire arm as she rushes through the throne room doors ahead of the rest of the company. "We've returned - and we've done it! The Demon King's soul is entrapped within Rausten's Sacred Stone, and his body has been reduced to nothingness!" She proudly holds the Sacred Stone aloft.

"I suspected as much," says Mansel, descending his throne. L'Arachel hands him the Sacred Stone, and he examines it carefully. "Our sages all reported a sudden increase, and then total decline, of dark magic energy from Darkling Woods. And no monsters have been sighted since that time. I knew you would do it, L'Arachel. Well done! You are truly a hero of justice and light, and you have saved Magvel."

"Not alone, of course!" L'Arachel indicates Eirika, who enters the room behind her, trailed by Dozla and Rennac. "Our army performed incredibly well! Eirika herself dealt a magnificently valorous final blow against the Demon King!

"Thank you, Princess Eirika. Thank all of your army for me, as well. I am glad...I am so glad that things were put to an end at last." Mansel pauses. "L'Arachel...what became of Riev?"

"Dead, Uncle. By my hand. Here..." L'Arachel removes Riev's Aura tome from her belt and holds it out to Mansel.

Mansel shakes his head. "Keep it. I am glad...while that man lived, we would all be in danger. Thank you, L'Arachel...for cleaning up the mess I left you. And, Princess Eirika...I thank you, once more. Having the courage to strike down one you once cared deeply for...that is a courage I did not possess. But that courage is what has saved our world. You are very strong, Princess."

Eirika bows slightly. "Thank you, Your Holiness. It was difficult, but I did what needed to be done."

"Very impressive, Princess L'Arachel." L'Arachel turns in surprise and sees Court Troubadour Saaga entering the room. "I was certain you would help bring light to Magvel. I see I was not wrong."

"Saaga! You never appear before guests!" L'Arachel hurries over to her and bows. "It is good to see you again!"

"And I am glad to see you as well, Princess. I'm glad you took my advice to heart." Saaga gives Eirika an appraising look. "Your magic has improved greatly. You've found strong allies, and made dear friends. Well done."

"Thank you, Lady Saaga." L'Arachel beams. "I could not have embarked on this journey without your support!"

"Will your guests be staying here for the night, L'Arachel?" Mansel asks. "It is a long trip back to their countries..."

"We'll be seeing everyone back…it would be good if we could take a night to rest here before we set out once more," says Eirika. "If it isn't too inconvenient for Your Holiness…we'll leave tomorrow morning?"

"Not at all. I'll have rooms prepared at once. All of you may have free range of the castle. I must have the kitchens prepare another feast." Mansel winks at them. "After all, the slaying of an eldritch abomination is an excellent reason to celebrate!"

"Very well said, Uncle!" L'Arachel smiles, but her mind is elsewhere.

Tomorrow morning isn't very far away, after all.

\---

L'Arachel forces a smile onto her face the next morning as Eirika's company prepares to depart Rausten. Several members walk up to her, Dozla, and Rennac to say farewells (Myrrh crying a bit into Dozla's beard, and the latter looking rather misty-eyed himself.)

Still, before long, the horses and convoy are loaded (with added supplies gifted by Mansel) and everyone is beginning their departure. Eirika walks up to L'Arachel, and Dozla suddenly recalls something important he and Rennac have to do and ushers the other away.

"I suppose this is farewell, then, Princess Eirika!" says L'Arachel as brightly as she can. "I...I do hope we can meet again soon!"

"I hope so too." Eirika holds out a hand, and L'Arachel takes it. "Ephraim's coronation will likely be held in some months...I will be certain to invite you."

"That would be marvelous. Part of me wishes to follow you on the remainder of your journey. But, as the princess of Rausten, I still have many duties to perform." L'Arachel looks down at Eirika's hand in hers. "I will be certain to write you, though! As often as I can!"

"And I shall write back," Eirika answers. "I...I'll miss you, L'Arachel." L'Arachel looks up; Eirika's lovely eyes are sad.

L'Arachel draws a deep breath. "Oh, Princess Eirika...if it pleases you, I would be ever so delighted if...if you joined my tea club."

"Tea club?" says Rennac, returning. "Since when do you have a - _ow_ , Dozla! Okay, I'm coming!"

L'Arachel nods vigorously, her cheeks coloring. "Yes, my tea club! That I am forming! Just now! A wonderful idea that suddenly struck me! I insist that you come. Oh, say you will, won't you?"

"Oh." Eirika blinks. "Er...yes, that sounds lovely. Should I invite Tana as well?"

"Yes, all of us! Having tea together. That would be very nice. Once...once peace is fully restored, of course."

"Of course." Eirika sighs softly. "I suppose...I should get going. We're heading for Jehanna, so…"

"Right. I will see you again, Eirika, hopefully soon." L'Arachel bows over Eirika's hand, and then, impulsively, brings Eirika's knuckles to her lips and kisses them. When she straightens, Eirika's face is scarlet.

"Y-yes!" Eirika pulls her hand back a moment late, clasping it in her other. "Goodbye, Princess L'Arachel. Until we meet again."

"Yes, until we meet again! Which will be soon!" L'Arachel waves, and Eirika turns away and mounts her horse, and then with one look back she rides away with the rest of the company, the morning light shining on her turquoise hair.

L'Arachel keeps waving, until the horses are out of sight over the horizon.

"...Princess L'Arachel?" A heavy hand rests on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" Dozla's voice is gentle, as though she were a child again.

L'Arachel blinks, lowering her hand slowly. "Ah...yes. I...I feel dreadfully lonely all of a sudden, Dozla. Even though...she's only just left...I feel like...something is missing, something vital. It is as though she took a part of me with her."

"You're crying, Lady L'Arachel."

"I am?" L'Arachel lifts a hand to her own face. "Ah. It seems that I am."

Dozla doesn't say another word, just wraps her in his arms and holds her as he did when she was very small, and her tears run into his shoulder, and they stay there for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've finished the game's events! Now...resolution :)


	10. What Comes After

My dearest Eirika,

Though you have only departed days ago, it feels somehow as if you have been gone for a dreadfully long time. Isn't that strange? I am hoping this letter is waiting for you when you arrive in Renais, though I know it is unlikely. One way or another, hello! It isn't the same as being together in person, but I wish for this letter to bring you some joy and comfort.

Things have been terribly busy in the time since you departed. Matters of state and such - wars do cause a great deal of chaos, don't they? Regardless, I have been aiding Uncle as best I can. As dull as political matters can be compared to grand acts of heroism, it is my holy duty as the crown princess, and so I will undertake it with aplomb. Still, sometimes I think I prefer the monsters!

Uncle has returned the Sacred Stone to its place in the palace reliquary, and the Sacred Twins as well. All the rites are in place and they are well guarded, so you have no need to worry further. Even if Rausten's Sacred Stone were to shatter, the Demon King's soul would have nowhere to return and only drift aimlessly - still, I think it best that we keep a close eye on the Stone, and teach future generations about the dangers it now holds. I intend to do all I can to avert a second tragedy like the one that occurred in Grado.

Speaking of Grado, I hope it and Renais are doing well with the rebuilding efforts? I know Uncle has formally declared his intentions to lend aid to both countries as needed to return them to their former glory. I know you and Ephraim are well up to the task, but Rausten is here if you have need of us.

Winter has dawned, and snow is starting to fall. It is a beautiful sight - the mountains and trees of Rausten are covered in a lovely white blanket. I would love to show it to you one day. Do you know, no two snowflakes are exactly the same? When I was told that as a child, I spent hours at a time trying to find matching snowflakes to prove it - but I was never successful. I think people are rather like snowflakes. Even in all my travels, I have never met two people I would say are exactly alike, whether in looks or in personality. Dozla says that is very wise of me.

I hope you are doing well. I know you have a lot left on your plate in Renais, and know that you can ask me for aid, or to lend an ear, at any time you wish. Dozla says hello as well. To be more specific, he says "Gwa ha ha! Say hi to the princess for me!" so there it is.

If you find the time, please do write back. It would be lovely to hear from you.

Yours always,

L'Arachel

\---

Dear L'Arachel,

Thank you for your letter, and your kind words. I must apologize that it has taken me so long to write you - things have been quite busy here in Renais as well. We had barely reentered the palace doors when Ephraim received word of the Grado landslide, and set off to aid in their reconstruction. Entire cities have been wiped out, and even the capital has been threatened by the aftershocks - we aren't yet certain, but it seems nearly half of the country has been utterly destroyed, and the death toll is already terrible. Grado has always suffered from earthquakes, but one this major hasn't occurred for centuries. Regardless, the entire empire is in danger from the horrible damage that has been done, and the Grado government is in tatters and unprepared to address this crisis - hence why Ephraim has traveled there, along with General Seth and our best knights, to try and salvage the country. He and I are in agreement that Grado's citizens deserve survival and peace as much as Renais's do.

According to Knoll, Lyon's desperation to bring his father back was most likely a result of Lyon and his team predicting this earthquake. The prediction stated the earthquake would be within five years, and we were making preparations to evacuate Grado's citizens to safety before the disaster could strike. But the earthquake came earlier than anticipated, and it was far too late. Ephraim and I both feel guilty about not having acted sooner, about Lyon not feeling able to confide in us - but there is no point to wallowing in guilt. All we can do is take action now that tragedy has fallen, and try to prevent further death and suffering.

We're searching for an heir to the Grado throne - for the time being, Renais has appointed a governor, but the Grado people would prefer a rightful king of Grado's bloodline. General Duessel is investigating Emperor Vigarde's family tree to try and find someone. In addition, there is also the rebuilding of the destroyed areas of Grado, healing and providing aid to the wounded, relocating the homeless, burying the dead, bringing food and resources to the areas lacking in them, and stopping bandits who are capitalizing on the chaos - Ephraim has his hands full in Grado.

I have been holding down the Renais homefront in his stead, and it is a lot more than I am used to. We're making the palace livable again, and more importantly, we're focusing on rebuilding the villages and areas destroyed by monsters and war. There's a lot of diplomatic mess to deal with, as well - many of Renais's lords and generals are finding it difficult to reach a compromise that pleases everyone. I'm sure you know how that is - you mentioned Rausten having its own political conflicts? I suppose no matter where you go, some things remain the same.

We've also opened Renais's borders to the displaced Grado refugees, which has been a controversial, but necessary move. Many of these people have no place to go, and I hope Renais will be able to welcome them with open arms. There has been backlash, but there is no other choice - these people need somewhere safe to go. Frelia has opened its borders as well, and so has Jehanna, but the former is quite far from Grado and the latter is also in dreadful shape after the war; furthermore, the desert can be inhospitable for non-natives. Renais is the country that will be taking most of the refugees, and there's a lot of management that must be done to get them settled. It's busy work, but worthwhile.

Some are saying that the events in Grado are the country's divine punishment, but I cannot believe that. The gods I learned of as a child, and the gods you always speak of - I do not think they would do such a thing. It seems so cruel and unfair.

I'm glad the Sacred Stone is safe. Thank you for reassuring me on that front. Tell Dozla hello from me, too. Thank you for all of your kindness.

Sincerely yours,

Eirika

\---

Dearest Eirika,

We received news of the Grado landslides even here, shortly before your letter arrived. It sounds dreadful. I do hope everyone is safe, and that the empire is able to get back on its feet. Do let me know if there is anything you need. Uncle has sent some men to Grado in order to aid in the reconstruction efforts, but if there is anything else that can be done, you need only give the world. I know you and Ephraim feel responsible for both Renais and Grado - but Rausten is eager to help, even if we are far away. Merely speak the word, and we will do all that we can. Magvel must stand united if we are to weather this storm - as we did during the war itself, so we shall do during peacetime.

I have offered prayers for you, your brother, Renais, and Grado, and continue to offer them whenever I can. It may not be much, but I hope the gods are not so vengeful as to inflict a punishment upon innocents to hurt a sinful few. I do not think they are, at least. No, sometimes tragedy strikes regardless of one's intentions or goodness. Saint Latona once wrote, "For one who cannot walk, it is the duty of those who can to serve as their legs." We must pick ourselves up, and pick up those who cannot, and move forward. It is all that we can do.

Now, for some more lighthearted goings-on! Uncle wanted me to resume my magical studies - but that was quickly put to a halt when I (inadvertently) nearly vaporized my sparring partner! It seems like the experiences I was granted in war have put me rather ahead of the curve, and I passed my remaining tests with flying colors (and a good deal of destruction, which I can assure you was unintentional!) I am considered to be a level equivalent to one of Uncle's very own Mage Generals now! It is rather exciting. I have continued studying ancient magics and the teachings of Saint Latona on my own time, when I am not busy with diplomatic matters.

Things are settling down a bit here in Rausten, since the war did not do much damage to us. Another reason we are eager to assist the rest of Magvel, which suffered far more - it is our duty to help rebuild from this tragedy. Rausten is the spiritual heart of Magvel, yes, but there is more to religion than simply fancy words. We wish to back up our beliefs with action.

You sound like you have a great deal to do. Please make sure you are taking care of yourself as well. I know you have many burdens - remember that you needn't bear them alone.

Yours always,

L'Arachel

\---

Dear L'Arachel,

Please do not concern yourself on my account. I am managing well. Your kindness is always a comfort to me, though. Thank you.

We've located a cousin of Emperor Vigarde's who is willing to assume the throne. She is very young, younger even than we are, but Knoll and General Duessel have agreed to serve as her aides and advisors. She will be coronated soon in a very small ceremony - by the time this letter reaches you, it will likely be public knowledge.

I am hoping with the throne secured, Ephraim will be able to return home for longer than a few days at a time. He has been very busy in Grado, and so Renais has been entirely in my hands - but the people are beginning to question where their king is, and I haven't the ability to explain. We've postponed his coronation until Grado is on its feet once more, and the nobles in particular are restless about it. They want a king who is present, but Ephraim's duties are keeping him away.

Rausten's aid has been useful, I believe - your uncle's men are starting to arrive in Grado, and Ephraim mentioned it when he wrote of the new queen. We are grateful that these soldiers are willing to station themselves in Grado for the foreseeable future - it must be difficult for them to leave their home behind, but according to Ephraim they all seem very enthusiastic to be of help. I have written to ensure he thanks them profusely. Thank you to you and your uncle as well, for sending them.

Your magical skills always were impressive. I've been sparring off and on with some of the knights, but most of them are afraid to face me now, even with practice swords. I suppose war is the most powerful experience one can gain. It is a shame that it came with such a cost. Sometimes, I feel as if I have never left the battlefield - that peacetime has left me lost and confused, like I am somewhere else entirely foreign and strange, no matter where I go. Does that make sense?

Sincerely yours,

Eirika

\---

Dearest Eirika,

I understand your meaning. Adjusting to life in peace has been very odd, and not easy. I myself have never been one to suffer from nightmares, but after all we have been through, I find myself awakening from them more often than not. I am also more alert than is strictly necessary, and easily startled. Once Rennac crept up behind me and I inadvertently fired a powerful magic bolt at him. Luckily, he was able to dodge and it only singed him, but I felt dreadful thinking that I might have severely injured my own vassal. I suppose all of this is inevitable after witnessing the horrors of war, but it does make me feel rather foolish.

I was happy to hear of the coronation of young Empress Isobel, and I am glad Ephraim was able to find a suitable candidate from the throne. I hope her reign will be long and prosperous. With an ally such as yourself, how can it not be? I trust her guidance will bring Grado into a new age, and am eager to meet her in the future.

Dozla, Rennac, and I took a small tour around Rausten, which is why this letter has taken me so long to pen. We stopped by some of the villages on the outskirts of the country, many near to Darkling Woods, that were damaged by Riev in his assault. There, we provided aid in the reparations. It was quite rewarding work. Some of the older members of the village recalled my parents' escapades, and greeted me warmly. A few even said that I was doing their memory proud by continuing their quest. It was touching, but it left me feeling a bit odd, even inadequate. I suppose to some I am my parents' daughter first and myself second. I am quite proud of them, proud to have them as my parents. Perhaps it is vain, as I am sometimes accused of being, but I would like to make a name for myself as well. In the end, it matters little, as long as they are all safe, no? Still, I wonder whether they are right about my parents being proud of me. I will never know, but I'd like to hope so.

Dozla noticed me penning this letter and wants me to send along his greetings once more. Here they are: "Ho ho! Hello, Princess Eirika! I hope you're doing well!"

I echo his sentiment. Please look after yourself, Eirika. You are always in my thoughts.

Yours always,

L'Arachel

\---

Dear L'Arachel,

Please do not call your nightmares and anxieties foolish. I have been having them as well - like you said, after everything we've seen, it is unsurprising. Such things don't make you weak, only human. I am sure we will adjust, given time.

Ephraim has gone back to the Grado front. The current political matters are largely handled by Empress Isobel, aided by Dussel and Knoll. However, he heard reports of the continued bandit attacks plaguing the Grado citizens, and immediately departed with General Seth in tow. So, once again, I am the acting ruler of Renais in his stead. Now that things in Renais and Grado are starting to stabilize, Ephraim's coronation is on the horizon once more, so I suspect he is trying to enjoy the last few months he has before he becomes king.

Planning a coronation ceremony does take a lot out of one, though. I've barely begun the plans, and yet there is quite a lot to do - the guest list and invitations alone are going to be dominating the next several weeks. As is tradition in Renais, the High Priest will be conducting the ceremony, which will be followed by a ball and banquet. I'm afraid neither Ephraim nor I have ever planned such a thing before, as Father rarely entertained in such a fashion, preferring smaller affairs. Apparently my mother was quite adept at it, and he hadn't the heart to do so without her. Still, I am determined to face things head on, and so this journey begins. At times, I think I would rather take to the battlefield, but at least I technically am at less risk of dying while looking at seating charts than in a sword duel.

It is true that some people will always see a child as the product of their parents, regardless of the child's age or achievements. Many in the capital refer to myself and Ephraim as "Fado's children." Either way, you have done incredible good for the world, L'Arachel - you did help slay the Demon King, did you not? I, for one, am honored to have met you. Even if you do fall prey to vanity at times, it is only human to have faults, and I consider yours to be far eclipsed by your great virtues. I learned in our time together that you are a person of true honor and courage.

It is good of you to lend your aid to your citizens. I haven't been able to leave the capital since we returned to Renais, and I do miss being able to get out and about. I've largely been trapped in my office or various stuffy meetings. Still, it is all for the best in the end. I do try to take some time to myself at least once a week, in the library or garden, so you needn't fear. I know if I work myself into the ground I am no good to anyone - I learned that on our journey. I learned it thanks to you.

Give my salutations to Dozla. I think of you often, L'Arachel. Sometimes when I am lost, I think of what you would say, and it serves to guide me forward.

Sincerely yours,

Eirika

\---

Dearest Eirika,

I know you told me not to fear, and I am glad that you are taking time for yourself. Still, I worry about you being overworked, with Ephraim gone so long. Ensure that you aren't. It would ease my mind. I also fear that you are lonely - please take some time with your loved ones, to relax and recharge a bit. It benefits not only you, but your people - you can better restore Renais if your own spirits are high, right?

You are an incredibly selfless person, Eirika, but once in awhile, perhaps too much so. Self-sacrifice can be an admirable quality, but only in moderation! In contrast, it is true that I am a bit self-centered at times, though I am striving more and more not to be. I've learned many things on our campaign...I find myself spending more time pondering, and I think I have grown more altruistic. You were an excellent influence on me. I think the best friendships are ones where both sides can grow and learn from one another.

I miss you terribly. It has been so long since we've seen each other, close to three months...I am hoping that we can meet soon. I always so look forward to your letters. I keep them all, to read through later, whenever I feel downhearted or alone.

Always,

L'Arachel

\---

Dear L'Arachel,

I am writing to formally invite you to Renais, as I promised. Ephraim's coronation ceremony and ball is about two months from now, and I would love to have you there as a representative of Rausten, and as my dear friend and honored guest. However, if you can come earlier than that...I would be happy to host you in Renais Castle for as long as you like. Truthfully, having you here would do me a world of good. I have missed your kindness and wisdom, and I would be lying if I did not say I feel lonely here. It may be selfish of me to steal away Rausten's princess, but whenever you wish to come and can make the time...you are welcome.

Enclosed is the formal invitation, with further details regarding the date and time.

I dearly hope you can come. I would love to see you.

Yours,

Eirika

PS: I, too, keep your letters - they are a great source of strength for me, just as the one who penned them is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a pretty short penultimate chapter before the massive final one ;)


	11. Light's Restoration

Princess L'Arachel, aged nineteen, is ready for the second most important journey of her life.

"I'm packed!" says L'Arachel cheerfully. "It took no time at all!"

Mansel watches her rushing about her bedroom with an air of fatigue. "Dear niece, you only received that letter mere hours ago. Perhaps you should send a response ahead of time?"

"I can ride faster than any messenger cart, Uncle! Rennac has agreed to be my tour guide this time, to ensure we reach Renais in the shortest time possible. Are you ready yet, Rennac?"

"Give a guy more than two hours to find his stuff!" Rennac's voice echoes from a side hall. "Do you know how hard it is to find _anything_ in this castle? Everyone's so happy-go-lucky…" He devolves into grumbling.

L'Arachel taps her foot. "Honestly. I _am_ in a hurry."

"The coronation isn't for well over a month, L'Arachel." Mansel shakes his head. "You have time to spare…"

"It isn't about the coronation, Uncle! It's about being there for Eirika." L'Arachel checks her bag again. "Oh, right, formal attire for the coronation!" She hurries to her wardrobe.

"You forgot _that_?" Mansel sighs. "I realize you want to see Princess Eirika again, but take a moment to breathe, L'Arachel."

"Did Saint Latona 'take a moment to breathe' before facing down the Demon King?" L'Arachel demands, pawing through her dresses. "No! I think not!"

"They did, actually. Passage ten of book seven, I believe. It's entitled 'A Rest.'" Mansel glances at the clock. "Besides, you shouldn't leave this late in the evening. Go tomorrow morning, instead. It will be safer from bandits and the like, and easier on the horses."

"Listen to him!" Rennac pops his head in the room. "He's smart!"

"...I guess your logic is sound, Uncle," L'Arachel admits, stepping back from the wardrobe. Rennac raises a celebratory fist. "I will still strive to have all preparations made tonight, so that we can leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow." Rennac's face falls.

"Gwa ha ha! Tomorrow, you say?" Dozla enters, arms full of supplies. "That's good! Gives me time to polish my breastplate!"

"Yes, tomorrow," says L'Arachel, comparing two gowns in the mirror. "It is decided. The second light dawns, mind you! Not a moment after! Be ready by five, just in case. Uncle, do you prefer the taffeta or the silk?"

Rennac gives an exaggerated groan and staggers from the room.

"The silk, I think, dear." Mansel shakes his head. "I will make a few arrangements of my own. Good night, L'Arachel. Sleep well."

"You as well, Uncle!" L'Arachel calls over her shoulder. "Now, I have to select jewelry, too!"

\---

"Oh, a lovely morning for travel!" L'Arachel twirls happily in the dewy morning air. "The sun is about to rise, and the birds are about to sing - a lovely moment of anticipation!"

"Gar ha ha! You have such a way with words, milady!" says Dozla appreciatively. "I can hardly wait!"

"I hate you. I hate all of you. I hate the whole planet. I wish the Demon King killed us all."

"Not a morning person, Rennac? Don't fret, morning always turns into day eventually, gwa ha ha!" Dozla pats the smaller man's back, sending an unsuspecting Rennac pitching forward face-first into the dirt.

"Very well put, Dozla," says Mansel, standing in the palace entryway watching the goings-on with an air of amusement. "L'Arachel, are you prepared to depart?"

"Of course!" L'Arachel bows. "How could I not be? I have all that I need packed and ready to go!"

"I have sent a messenger ahead to the king of Jehanna to expect your visit on the way to Renais. One thing more, then - a coronation gift for Princess Eirika and the soon-to-be-King Ephraim." Mansel holds out a bag to L'Arachel, who takes it. "It's funds for the reconstruction - nothing terribly flashy, I know, but most likely what they are in most dire need of. Knowing those two, they'll only accept financial aid if it's framed as a coronation gift. Make sure they accept it. I've had Saaga enchant the bag to only be opened by one of Renais royal blood, so bandits shouldn't be able to get at it. Ensure it is kept safe regardless."

L'Arachel nods and slips the pouch into her saddlebags. "I will do so! Your generosity truly knows no bounds, Uncle."

 _"Generosity?"_ Rennac gets to his feet, spitting out dirt. "You still haven't paid me!"

Mansel's eyebrows go up. "Rennac, you wanted pay? I had no idea…"

"No idea!? That is not even _remotely_ true - you're just as much of an airhead as your niece - "

"Come along, Rennac! No time for such things!" L'Arachel mounts Theia. "The sun is rising - we depart! Farewell, Uncle!"

Mansel waves. "Have a safe journey, L'Arachel. Travel well."

"We ride!" Theia rears up and then gallops off, Dozla and Rennac running along in her wake. L'Arachel's heart is singing.

_Soon, soon, soon…_

\---

Thanks to Rennac, they make good time. Right on schedule, the trio arrives at Jehanna Hall late one night, halfway to Renais and their destination.

"Hello, and good evening!" L'Arachel cheerily greets the guards. "Some of you may recognize me - I am the beautiful princess of peerless beauty, L'Arachel of Rausten! My uncle has sent a letter ahead asking the king of Jehanna for a night's stay - "

"I could hear you all the way down the hall," Joshua's voice precedes him as he comes out the front door of Jehanna Hall. He leans against the doorway, smirking. "You haven't changed."

"Nor have you," says L'Arachel, looking Joshua up and down. He is dressed in the same shabby mercenary's clothing he has always worn.

Joshua shrugs. "Royal garb got all burned up, and we don't really have the funds to spare. It's habitable inside, but not much more. Still, if you've got nowhere better to go, then you're welcome. C'mon in."

L'Arachel dismounts, a guard coming up to take Theia to a stable, and she, Dozla, and Rennac follow Joshua inside.

Jehanna Hall certainly does not look as it did when L'Arachel last saw it - it is clean, though some walls have faint scorch marks. It is, however, bare of decorations, and only a few simple pieces of furniture lie scattered about. Joshua leads her over to a fireplace where a few wooden chairs are. "This is...our throne room. Basically. For now, anyway."

"You've done an admirable job of cleaning up," says L'Arachel hastily, sitting in one of the chairs, which creaks in protest at being forced to do its job. Rather like Rennac. "It can't have been easy."

"It wasn't. Still isn't. We were pretty lucky - this old girl's solidly built. A few smaller rooms crumbled when their mortar weakened, but overall we pretty much just had to clean up a lot of debris to make it livable. Pretty much everything inside was smoke, though. Unusable. So the coronation wasn't much of anything - no crown. It melted." A servant comes up with a tray of drinks. Joshua nods and takes one; L'Arachel, Dozla, and Rennac also do so. L'Arachel quickly realizes the drink is just water, but doesn't say anything.

"Still…" Joshua shrugs. "We've got bedrolls for everyone who lives here, and there's more important things then furnishing the castle. It's still nicer conditions than most of the ones I've spent the last decade living in. So I can't complain. The servants still here are all ones that served Mother - since her last act was sacrificing herself to save them, most of them have sworn a life debt to me. Or something. At the very least, I don't think I have to worry about a dagger in my back. And they've all been a huge help in getting me up to speed with politics again."

"I'm glad you seem to be landing on your feet, at least," says L'Arachel.

"Yeah, but I'm going to Ephraim's coronation pretty soon...not super in advance the way you are, but pretty soon...so I need to get a fancy outfit together. Natasha said she'd handle - " He stops abruptly.

L'Arachel leans forward, eyes glinting. "What was that last part, Joshua? I did not quite catch - "

"Okay, okay, she's moving here." Joshua rolls his eyes at L'Arachel's eager expression. "She's gotten things in order back in Grado, and we're going to meet up at the coronation, and she'll come back with me. Happy?"

"Very," says L'Arachel, leaning back in satisfaction. "I'm quite proud of you. I'm surprised Natasha is willing to leave Grado."

"Things are starting to stabilize there, and the rest of her old master's pupils have rallied to continue his work. Jehanna needs a lot of work too, and she says as long as she's doing good, she doesn't care where. That enough gossip for you, Princess?"

"I suppose it will do," says L'Arachel, sipping her water. "It is good to know you are doing well for yourself."

"And you're riding to meet Princess Eirika well before her brother's coronation. Anything to say about that?"

"Nothing whatsoever," says L'Arachel with dignity. She sets down her cup and gets to her feet. "If you could show me to my quarters?"

"Sure, Your Highness." Joshua gets up. "It's pretty much just an empty room you can put your bedrolls in, though."

L'Arachel waves a hand. "I am well used to those kinds of conditions by now. A roof over our heads is more than enough."

Joshua leads her down the hall to the aforementioned empty room. "Enjoy."

"Thank you for your hospitality," says L'Arachel, setting down her bags.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get used to it. It's just because we saved the world together. Good night, scream if someone assassinates you." Joshua disappears back down the hall.

L'Arachel happily unfurls her bedroll. "I think we're friends."

\---

Eventually, though the journey is _terribly_ long, L'Arachel arrives at Renais Castle. Her heart has been pounding in her chest since she saw the castle towers in the distance, beckoning to her; she'd gotten increasingly agitated as they drew closer and closer, much to Rennac's chagrin and Dozla's amusement.

Castle Renais is in far better shape then when she saw it last - still quite bare, still a bit crumbling in a few places - but it seems most of the structural damage has been repaired, and the flag of Renais still billows proudly from the tallest tower.

"Ah, Princess L'Arachel!" The gate guard at Renais Castle looks surprised to see her. "We did not expect you so soon!"

"A strong and sensitive princess such as myself always strives to be at her most punctual!" L'Arachel declares. Rennac makes a strangled noise not unlike that of a dying cat.

"Er...Regardless, Princess Eirika is eager to see you. Please proceed ahead - leave your horse here, we'll bring her to the stables."

"Thank you very much!" L'Arachel dismounts and passes Theia's reins to the guard. "No need for fuss, we'll carry our own bags! In we go!"

She is nearly vibrating by the time they finally are inside the front entryway. "Now I wonder where - " and she stops short.

Eirika is just stepping into the room, arms full of papers, talking to a young blonde knight L'Arachel vaguely recognizes from their campaign. Time freezes when L'Arachel looks at her. Eirika's turquoise hair is loosely braided down her back. She is wearing a red peplum military jacket and riding boots, a slender rapier hanging at her side.

She is every bit as beautiful as L'Arachel remembers her.

Eirika hears L'Arachel's voice, halts, looks up, sees L'Arachel, and the papers tumble from her arms. "L'Ara - ?"

L'Arachel has a million words she wanted to say to Eirika, and instantly forgets them all, instead abandoning her own bags on the floor and running towards her. L'Arachel flings her arms around the other woman, and Eirika catches her, nearly lifting L'Arachel off her feet as she holds her tightly.

L'Arachel buries her face in Eirika's shoulder, at a loss for anything to say - _is_ there anything to say? - simply feeling her there. Eirika's arms are strong, and warm, and safe, and even miles from Rausten Castle, L'Arachel feels as though she has come home. They spend a long moment like that, no words spoken, rocking back and forth slightly as they cling to each other.

Eirika pulls back slightly. "L'Arachel - let me look at you." Eirika rests a hand on L'Arachel's face, brushes away a stray curl hanging there. "I can't believe - I wasn't expecting you for weeks."

"Here I am!" says L'Arachel brightly. "I was eager to see Renais - and most of all, to see you! You are beautiful as ever."

Eirika flushes, ducking her head, but smiling. "You're too kind, L'Arachel. Thank you. I am so...so happy you're here." She hugs L'Arachel again, leaning into her. "You being here just makes everything feel so much...brighter."

There's a small, polite cough from beside them, and they pull apart. The knight with Eirika has gathered up her fallen papers. "Er, Princess Eirika? I'm sorry, but about the treaty…"

"Ah." Eirika disentangles from L'Arachel and turns to face him. "I apologize, Franz. I was distracted. If you could leave it on my desk? I want to look over it once more before the meeting tomorrow."

"Of course, milady! Is there anything else you need?"

"No, that's all. Feel free to retire for the evening. We've gotten plenty done today. Thank you."

Franz bows and leaves the entryway.

Eirika turns back to L'Arachel. "That's Sir Franz...he's serving as my assistant and bodyguard while Seth is in Grado with Ephraim and some of the other knights. Oh, and speaking of, where are my manners? Welcome, Sir Dozla, Sir Rennac."

"Sir?" Rennac mutters, but Dozla laughs.

"It's nice to see you, Princess Eirika! Lady L'Arachel was so excited for this visit, it made me excited as well, ga ha ha! I'm eager to spend some time sightseeing in Renais."

"Sightseeing in Renais? Lady L'Arachel was just excited to - gmmph mmph mmph." says Rennac, as Dozla claps a hand over his mouth.

Eirika looks a bit confused, but she smiles nonetheless. "Well, there isn't much to sightsee, truthfully."

"Oh, I'm easy enough to please, Your Highness! Say, could you tell me where the training yard is? We've not fought anything in quite some time, and my axe and heart are crying out for battle!"

"Er...down that hall, make a left, double doors at the end of the hall. But dinner is going to be served in an hour..."

"Gwa ha! All the better! No point in eating if you don't work up a good appetite first! Come on, Rennac! We spar until someone passes out!" Dozla grabs Rennac by the collar and drags him off in the direction Eirika had indicated. The latter's whines of protest disappear down the corridor.

Eirika turns back to L'Arachel. "I'm afraid there's little I can offer by way of entertainment. We've cleaned up and repaired most of the damage done to the castle, however, if you would like a tour?"

"That sounds wonderful!" says L'Arachel cheerfully.

Eirika turns to a nearby guard. "Sir, if you could take Princess L'Arachel's bags to my chambers, please? And put Sir Rennac and Sir Dozla's things in the guest chambers. Thank you very much." The guard bows and gathers up the scattered luggage.

Eirika beckons, and L'Arachel follows her down a hallway.

L'Arachel swings her arms as they walk. "I know I already told you, but you look lovely! The suit looks good on you."

"Thank you…" Eirika runs a hand over her white leggings. "You look lovely as well. Only you could look so pristine after days of riding."

"Of course! I am the beautiful princess of peerless beauty - I must always look my best!" L'Arachel winks, and Eirika laughs.

They turn into the open-air hallway stretching through the palace gardens. They are sparse, but green and neatly trimmed, which brings L'Arachel some relief, remembering Eirika's heartbroken face at the sight of the overgrown mess it had been when they were last here.

"We've done a lot of landscaping here - it'll be some time before things look as they were, though," Eirika says. "Ephraim and I used to play here as children. It was...much more beautiful then, but hopefully one day its beauty will be restored."

"I am certain of it. With you helping, how could it not be? Beauty begets beauty, after all! Hence why the palace of Rausten is such a lovely place!"

"An interesting theory," Eirika answers, smiling.

"Besides, I can already see new blooms coming through," L'Arachel points to the tiny sprouts in a flower bed. "I'm certain this garden will be resplendent given just a few years' time!"

"This garden has weathered plenty through the years, it is true. One time Tana pushed Innes into the rhododendron bush, actually. It bounced right back. Here, the dining hall is this way…"

\---

The tour concludes with entering Eirika's chambers once more. They are clean of dust and decay now, drawers all neatly shut and things put to right. It is still a bit sparse, devoid of much frills or finery, but the lamp is lit and it no longer has that lonely look. L'Arachel's bags are sitting on a table near the door.

"The castle already looks so improved, Eirika, and I have heard of the measures being taken both here and in Grado by you and your brother's actions. It is quite impressive to have achieved so much in such a short time," says L'Arachel. "I hope Rausten's men have been of assistance?"

"Yes, thank you. Your uncle's aid has been terribly helpful."

"Oh, I'd nearly forgotten!" L'Arachel fumbles in her bags, and withdraws the purse Mansel had given her. "Here - from my uncle, a coronation gift. Funds for the restoration - to use however you and Prince Ephraim see fit."

"Thank you so much," says Eirika, taking the bag, her eyebrows shooting up at its weight. "This is far too generous - "

"No, no! Rausten is still in quite strong shape, it is the least we can do to aid the rest of the continent! Besides, a gift is a gift! You may not return it!"

"Well...thank you. I'll have this deposited in the palace treasury, and set about writing a letter of thanks to His Holiness, as well." Eirika sets the bag down. "Oh, and, speaking of gifts...I want to show you something." Eirika unbuttons the high-necked collar of her jacket, and there against the smooth skin of her throat lies a gold chain. Eirika hooks the chain with a finger and holds it up so L'Arachel can see. A ruby is hanging there, framed in gold - The ruby L'Arachel gave her, a few months before.

"I…" L'Arachel's throat feels clogged.

"I've been wearing it since we got back," says Eirika softly, fondness in her gaze. "It...gives me strength. It feels like having a piece of you here." She curls her fingers around the gem. "So I thought I...should show you."

L'Arachel swallows hard, her brain stuttering on processing the fact that Eirika has been wearing the ruby, apparently at all times. "I...I am very glad you like it so, and that it brings you comfort."

"Thank you for giving it to me." Eirika tucks the necklace back into her collar, refastening it. "There was something I wanted to ask you...I have a meeting with Renais's lords tomorrow morning. It's...not something I've been looking forward to. If I could ask for your presence there? I can give you a debriefing beforehand…"

"If it's all right with the attendants, then it is no trouble at all. But, Eirika, now that we are alone...is there anything upsetting you, or worrying you? You aren't lonely?"

Eirika's breath catches, but she quickly forces a smile onto her face - one that doesn't reach her eyes. "I - I'm all right. I won't lie, it has been a bit lonely. Ephraim's been home only a handful of weeks total since the war, and things are quite busy, and everybody else has been far too busy to visit, but - but it's all right. You're here now, after all."

L'Arachel frowns. "Eirika - "

A knock comes at the door. "Princess Eirika? Supper is ready."

"We'll be right there!" Eirika calls. "I apologize, L'Arachel, but can we continue this conversation later?"

"Certainly," says L'Arachel. "Lead the way to dinner!" Still, her heart is sinking. The tone in Eirika's voice had been unmistakable.

\---

When they return to Eirika's room that evening, night has fallen. Dinner had been quite simple - but considering Renais's current condition, that was something to be expected, and L'Arachel doesn't mind that. What she does mind is Eirika's voice when speaking of being alone - the quiet, wavering tone is still ringing through her mind.

"May we talk, Eirika? Please. I want to know what troubles you."

Eirika's hands shake as she lights a lamp, but she gives a small nod, seating herself on a sofa and folding her hands in her lap. She is looking down at the floor, her shoulders hunched.

L'Arachel takes the chair facing her. "I only wish to help, Eirika. But I cannot do that if I don't know what is wrong."

"I know that. I...I don't want to burden you, or Eph - anyone. I'm managing all right, really. It's not like - not like I can't do this. But…"

"But you're lonely, and strung thin," says L'Arachel softly.

"...A bit, yes." Eirika blinks hard. "It's...it's not anyone's fault, really. But it's a lot of work, thankless work, and I feel like I'm doing it all myself."

"Where is Ephraim?"

"Grado. Beyond that, I...I know very little. He said he'd be home at least two weeks before the coronation. Seth is with him, so I'm certain he will be held to that promise."

"That's good, at least. But, Eirika...I know you wish to help your brother, but he's the one who's going to be king."

"We didn't really...didn't really talk about any of it. We were going to work towards restoration together, and we agreed he would go to Grado to help start the reconstruction efforts...but they've been started, and there's a new queen now, and I thought...I thought he'd help. I didn't think it would all be on my shoulders. It feels...terribly greedy. But I've barely left the palace since the war ended, and I haven't left the capital city at all. It's getting...It's a lot."

"Eirika…"

"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" Eirika whispers. "I...I have that meeting with the lords. When you see them...you'll understand."

"Okay. We'll talk about things tomorrow. But, please, Eirika...there's no shame in asking for help, or not giving endlessly of yourself. You know that, right?"

"...I do. Let's just...let's just go to bed, for now."

L'Arachel nods and gets to her feet. "If there's anything you wish to tell me...please feel free to do so. I am here."

"I know." Eirika sighs.

The two change into nightclothes in relative silence. Eirika puts out the lamp; as she bends over, the ruby necklace hanging from her neck swings slightly, glinting in the faint yellow light. When they approach the bed, neither needs to say anything - just as they did in Rausten, they curl up together, bodies remembering how exactly to let their arms and legs fall. Eirika lets out a small, peaceful sigh as they settle, curling her head into L'Arachel's shoulder, her breath against L'Arachel's chest.

L'Arachel strokes Eirika's hair. "It will be all right, Eirika. We'll figure this out."

"...When you say it, I can actually believe it," Eirika murmurs. "I always sleep better when you're here, L'Arachel…I may not even have nightmares tonight."

"A holy woman such as myself is like a divine ward!" says L'Arachel proudly.

"If you do have nightmares…" says Eirika softly, "you can wake me, you know. You're here for me, but I'm here for you, too."

L'Arachel's throat tightens. "I know. Thank you, Eirika. As always."

\---

Meetings with Renais's governing lords are worse even than L'Arachel was expecting. Despite having been briefed by Eirika over breakfast this morning, she still feels somewhat unprepared for the actual event.

"We're all here then," says Eirika, seating herself at the head of the table in the castle meeting room. "Thank you all for attending. It is an honor to have the four lords of Renais's districts here today."

"Who is your guest, your Highness?" asks Lord Lugo.

"This is Princess L'Arachel, from Rausten." Eirika indicates L'Arachel, who nods to them all. "As a dear friend of mine, I invited her to be here today. She will simply be watching."

"Hmm…" Lord Milos leans back in his seat, frowning. "A foreigner, attending a private Renais government meeting? Most unconventional. And it seems Crown Prince Ephraim will still not be gracing us with his presence?"

"I apologize for my brother's absence," says Eirika, her voice even. "He is aiding the reconstruction efforts in Grado now."

Lord Cortana huffs. "We've hardly seen hide or hair of His soon-to-be-Majesty since the conclusion of the Grado war! Aiding neighbors is all well and good, but being absent for this long is frankly unprofessional."

"And aiding the very people who waged war against Renais in the first place, to boot," hisses Lord Prato. "The earthquake was divine punishment for Grado's actions. We ought to leave them to - "

" _Gentlemen,_ " Eirika's tone is even, but frigid, the room seeming to drop a few degrees in temperature. "The actions of Grado's monarchy when influenced by the Demon King have already been discussed. The citizens of Grado do not deserve to suffer for the actions of their rulers, and even less so for the actions of wicked forces. Those among the Grado military who were complicit in the invasion of Magvel have been dealt with. We are here to discuss civil affairs within Renais, not Renais's peace agreement with Grado. Is that all?"

"You are correct, Your Highness, of course," says Lord Milos, his voice oily and sending shivers down L'Arachel's spine. "But it would be lovely to see Prince Ephraim here. Are you certain you are up to the task of filling his shoes?"

L'Arachel glances worriedly at Eirika, but her expression does not change. "My brother is not here. I am. I have been entrusted with guiding this continent by my elder brother, and given his full approval. My words are his. To defy me is to defy him."

"Of course, Princess. My most sincere apologies."

"Thank you. Now, may we proceed with the issue we came here to discuss?" Eirika indicates the sheets of paper lying on the table. There are various murmurs of assent from the lords, and Eirika clears her throat. "This is a current version of the Renais agreement we are working on. Everyone is aware of its contents? Good. Now, is there anything anybody would like to add or amend?"

"I personally must raise an objection to the policies regarding Grado refugees," Lord Prato steeples his ring-laden fingers together. "Renais suffered dreadfully at the hands of those Grado dogs mere days before. I know, milady - they were influenced by the Demon King, the civilians had little to do with it all - but how are we to know that the wicked poison that corrupted prince spread doesn't still bloom within their hearts? I do not wish risk the lives of Renais's people on such a chance."

"Lord Prato makes an excellent point," Lord Cortona interjects. "The Cortona region, which as you all know is adjacent to the Grado border, suffered great losses in the war. Farmland destroyed, people displaced if not killed...It was a tragedy, and one I dread repeating. The people of Cortona have not forgotten, and are not taking kindly to the influx of Grado citizens on their doorstep."

"I understand your trepidation," says Eirika calmly. "However, these people have nowhere to go. It is my, and my brother's, policy to extend a hand of kindness to all who need it. There are Renais citizens actively working to provide shelter and opportunity to the refugees, and should you wish to speak with them about your concerns, I am certain they will be happy to ease your minds. Peace must be made, and maintained, with Grado. The alternative is only more war, pain, and suffering. Should we turn our backs on Grado now, there will be strife in the generations to come."

"More flowery words, with little substance," Cortona hisses. "As I have come to expect of the princess."

"Empress Isobel has declared a nonviolent stance," Eirika continues, ignoring his comment. "She has offered formal apologies to Renais for all of Grado's actions, and willingly allowed Renais to have a hand in the current regime. Grado's military is just as decimated as Renais's. While there are desperate people committing despicable acts in Grado, the same can be said of Renais. We have dispatched a portion of the palace guard to protect both Renais citizens and Grado refugees from bandits and malcontents."

"None of this changes our point," says Lord Prato. "As long as Grado dogs are allowed to freely enter this country, we are all in danger."

"Frelia opened its borders to fleeing Renais citizens during the war," says Eirika stiffly. "I believe you were among those who spent the war living among the people there, Lord Prado? Should Renais not extend that same courtesy to its neighbors? Would you rather Frelia have left you to perish in the war?"

Prato falls quiet. Lord Lugo gives a small guffaw.

"I will have no more argument on the point of Grado refugees," says Eirika, turning back to her papers. "It does not concern this treaty."

"You are naive, _milady_ ," Cortona hisses. "Politics will chew you up and spit you out. You have no experience, little training, you are a foolish little girl - "

"Lord Cortona. That is quite enough. Please maintain civility, or I will be forced to ask you to leave. You may think me naive, and that is your right. I will not claim perfection. You may talk among yourselves about my perceived inadequacies all you like. However," Eirika lifts her chin, eyes glinting with thunder. "Within my own palace, you will treat me with respect. Is that clear?"

Cortona sputters a bit, and then slumps slightly in his chair, bravado running out.

"Now, could we please address the treaty? We only have so much time for this meeting," Eirika's papers rustle as she flips through them. "On page three, you'll see…"

\---

"That was rather dreadful, wasn't it?" says L'Arachel later, after the lords have long since left and she and Eirika are cleaning up the meeting room. "But they did sign the agreement…"

"They did." Eirika stacks up her papers neatly and motions to L'Arachel; they leave the room. "I appreciate you keeping quiet. I could tell you were eager to speak…"

"Of course! They were so cruel, and heartless to boot! But you handled them well."

"They're always like that. You have to bluster more than they do, and they'll eventually shut up and fall into line. 'Deferring to the biggest fish,' Father called it...I just have to prove I'm the biggest fish." Eirika shakes her head. "They're angry that I'm the one they're meeting with instead of Ephraim, and they're not the most agreeable personalities to begin with...but I've managed to get things running fairly smoothly."

"Still!" L'Arachel shakes her head. "It's dreadful."

"It's part of ruling, I suppose," says Eirika. The two leave the meeting room and walk down the hallway together. "It was comforting having you there."

"That reminds me...Eirika, you said we'd talk today. About...how you're doing?"

Eirika bites her lip. "I...I suppose we should, yes. Come." She leads L'Arachel back out into the palace garden. The two sit on a bench among the neatly-trimmed, if barren, bushes. Eirika sets her satchel of papers down by her feet, smooths her hands over her pants.

L'Arachel simply waits.

Finally, Eirika takes a deep breath. "It's not like I can't handle any of this. I can. I'm capable of it. But I wouldn't…I wouldn't say I enjoy it."

"That is understandable," says L'Arachel. "Few would."

"And I know that. But I...I didn't think it would all be on my shoulders. I feel alone. It was fine at first - when we were getting Grado settled, and he took charge of that while I managed Renais. I know Grado needs our help too, but...a few days ago, a missive from General Duessel on Grado's reconstruction came through. Ephraim isn't in the capital helping the queen, like I thought he was. He's been riding around the countryside, defending settlements from bandits. Which is - noble work! But that's what the men we deployed there are supposed to be doing, and…" Eirika's head droops. "I feel like he's just left me to clean up the mess myself. I feel as though I am being ungrateful. It's not like he isn't allowed to take time for himself. And he's been working very hard, I know that. But…"

"But you want help. You don't _need_ help, but you want it. Am I correct?"

"Yes. At the very least...Ephraim is to be king. I cannot...I cannot keep doing all his work on his behalf like this. He expects me to plan his coronation myself. But it's _his_ coronation. I feel like when we were children, and he'd try to get me to do his homework for him." Eirika shakes her head. "I'm probably being unfair, though. I haven't told him any of this. I feel like admitting I want assistance is admitting I can't handle it."

"It's not like that, dear," says L'Arachel gently. "I know you are aware of this, but asking for help doesn't make you weak. You shouldn't drive yourself to exhaustion just because you can."

"Also…" Eirika's shoulders droop. "I don't...don't really want to stay here in Renais forever. I love my home. But I want...I want to travel. I didn't know it was something I wanted until I was forced to leave, until I saw the world, but...I've made so many friends, seen so many things, and I feel...cooped up."

"Ephraim is a reasonable man, Eirika," says L'Arachel. "I am certain if you sit down and tell him your true feelings, and he tells you his, the two of you can work out a comfortable solution. Both of you can talk about appointing formal advisors and representatives to help lessen the burden, dividing your power and your time, and how to share responsibilities. It sounds like this is simply an issue of communication, at least to me."

"You're completely right," says Eirika with a rueful smile. "We kind of rushed into this, and now we're both having trouble figuring out what our roles should be. I'll...I'll go over what I want to say to Ephraim, and when he gets back, we'll talk."

"That sounds perfect," says L'Arachel. "I think the solution is easier than you think it is."

Eirika nods, tilts her head back to look up at the blue sky. "I already feel better, talking it out with you. Just telling someone...lessens the burden."

"I am glad!" L'Arachel beams. "I was hoping it would be so. I'll help you practice speaking to Ephraim, even, if you wish. Here!" She sits up straighter to emulate height, clears her throat, and drops her voice a few notches. "Hello, sister. I am Ephraim. Lances! Fighting!"

"Stop," Eirika laugh softly, lightly bumping L'Arachel's shoulder with her own. "I won't be able to say anything serious with you doing that."

"But it's really me, sister!" L'Arachel lets her shoulders fall and returns to her normal speaking voice. "Fine, fine. I am here to provide any aid I can, though!"

"I know. Truly, I do." Eirika stretches in her seat, looking back at the sky.

"Are you truly all right? Dealing with those vile men all day, well...I can't imagine it wouldn't take some toll."

"It's not every day, or even every week, thank goodness. No, it's just…" Eirika sighs. "I've grown more confident then I was, but...there's always a voice in my head saying that Ephraim would be handling things better. He would have stood up to those bullies."

"You stood up to them just fine from what I saw," says L'Arachel.

"I know that. I do, I honestly do. But that voice is always still there...they might not even have acted out of line if it had been Ephraim speaking to them. He's the crown prince, and he's, well...Ephraim. And a man. You know how it is."

"I do, unfortunately." L'Arachel pulls a face. "What stuffy old men."

"I'm...used to it. I grew up with it."

"That doesn't make it right."

"I know that. I know. But...sometimes I feel like...I deserve it." Eirika draws a shuddering breath, her gaze dropping to her hands. "Can I...tell you something? Something I've never even told Ephraim?"

"Of course, dear. Anything."

"I told you...told you about my mother. She died when we were born." Eirika inhales deeply again. "When...when _I_ was born."

L'Arachel's stomach drops. "Eirika…"

"Ephraim was born fine," says Eirika. She is staring fixedly at a spot in the grass. "The firstborn, the heir, a son. No...no problems. But...afterwards, when she was trying to have me...something went wrong. I don't know exactly what, or how, but...the midwife told my mother she had to choose. My life, or her own. The healers couldn't save both. And, obviously...Mother chose me. You know the rest." Eirika has hunched over, retreating into herself like a turtle in its shell. Her eyes are dry, but blank and unmoving. "My mother was...very popular with the castle staff, and the army, and...everyone, really. She had a magnetic personality, Father said. And I was...I was the reason she died."

"That isn't true at all," says L'Arachel lowly. "And you know it, Eirika. She made her decision. Even if she'd chosen differently...who knows what would have happened? You needn't…"

"I was a sickly, miserable infant," Eirika continues, as if not hearing L'Arachel. "Ephraim was healthy, and he weighed quite a lot more than I did...I needed a round-the-clock team of healers for the first several months of my life. Of course...of course people resent me. I've only...only ever been a burden. Unnecessary."

"...How did you learn of this, Eirika? Surely your father didn't…"

"Of course not," Eirika whispers. "He never knew that I knew. I overheard...a couple of servants who had been here since Mother's time, gossiping about it, about how unnecessary I was, how Mother already had Ephraim, nobody needed a weak little brat like me...I was nine. I didn't tell Father...I couldn't. He would've fired the woman, and...her mother was ill. She needed the money."

"Eirika…" No sentiment L'Arachel can think of seems to be of any use. Instead she wraps an arm around Eirika's shoulders, pulling her close.

"I realize it's silly," Eirika whispers into L'Arachel's shoulder. "I realize that...and yet, I nonetheless...could not forget it. It only...seemed to confirm the sort of things people always said about me. The expectations they had...were ones I could never live up to. Simply by not being Ephraim, by being myself...I had already failed, before I had even begun."

L'Arachel rests her head against Eirika's. "I don't...I don't know what to say, Eirika. Other than that you deserved none of that, and that you are a truly kindhearted, strong, lovely person. You are not some feeble alternative of your brother's, you are not his accessory or his shadow, you are in no way inferior to him - I have told you these things before, so I apologize for repeating myself, but they are still true."

"I know," Eirika murmurs. "I know that. And I know them better than I did last year, but - the doubts still creep up on me, at times. Especially when I am surrounded by people who do see me that way."

"Oh, dearest. That is understandable. Even one such as I would feel that way in a situation like yours!"

Eirika leans against L'Arachel. "Perhaps it is selfish of me, L'Arachel, but...in the weeks to come, may I count on your support? Your guidance and your presence...they are such a comfort to me. They make me feel stronger."

"As always! That is why I came. And, Eirika…" L'Arachel swallows. "You know, I did not come here to see your brother. Truth be told, he is not someone I know particularly well. I came here for you. You are the one that has touched my heart, you are the one that I find so inspiring, you are the one I chose to follow - all you. Not him. I was devoted to you before I had even met him."

Surprise crosses Eirika's face. "I suppose...I suppose that is true, isn't it?"

"Many people who fought alongside us felt the same way - perhaps even most of them," L'Arachel says lowly. "But Eirika - you are my dearest friend, one of the people I trust most in the world. Please do not forget that, all right? I won't let you forget it. I'll tell you that every day, if need be."

A smile crosses Eirika's face, she lowers her head, cheeks coloring. "All right. I...I would like to hear you say it again, some days. If that's okay."

"Of course! As many times as you wish!" L'Arachel beams.

Eirika squeezes a hand on L'Arachel's knee. "There's more work I need to get done today...but we'll talk more about all this. We'll talk about everything. I'm so...I'm so glad you're here, L'Arachel."

\---

_In her nightmares, Riev always wins._

_She isn't quite powerful enough, strong enough - she is alone - and his light is greater than hers, and it consumes everything, burning away Mansel, Dozla, Rennac, Tana, Eirika, everyone - they all dissolve in a light too powerful for her to stop. And then the villagers go, and the Rausten knights, and try as she might to reach them, there is a noose around her neck, holding her back._

_She is trapped in Renais Castle, and a revenant in Eirika's dress is staring at her with hollow eyes, repeating the same word in an emotionless tone, and it turns into a row of dead soldiers lying in front of her and her staff won't work, and Ephraim runs his lance through Eirika's chest as she stands in front of Lyon with her arms spread wide, and then her parents are standing just ahead, their backs to her._

_She reaches out to them, calls for their help, but they just walk away, and keep going, and ignore her cries of pain, and never turn back, and she is alone._

L'Arachel's eyes open and she is staring at the ceiling of Eirika's bedroom, panting, sweat leaking down her temple.

"L'Arachel?"

Eirika is sitting over her, very much alive. "Are you okay? You were breathing so hard..."

L'Arachel takes a slow breath, her heart still pounding as though she's been running for miles. "I...I am. I apologize if I frightened you. It was merely a nightmare."

"You mentioned having those…" Eirika passes L'Arachel a glass of water from the nightstand. L'Arachel sits up and takes a shaky sip. "Do you want to talk about it? I confide in you so often...I feel I should return the favor."

L'Arachel sighs. "There isn't anything terribly fascinating, honestly. War leaves its marks. Mostly about the sorts of things that happened then, often with worse outcomes."

Eirika nods. "I know how that is."

"Like…" L'Arachel pauses. "Why are _you_ awake?"

"Er…" Eirika scratches the back of her head sheepishly. "Nightmares, also."

"You could have woken me."

"They're every night. That would get redundant. Now, you're supposed to be the one confiding in me, L'Arachel. I know you hold your pain close to your chest, but we're friends. I asked you to tell me your troubles, and you agreed to it. I intend to hold you to that."

L'Arachel pouts. "You're using my own words against me! How devious you are!"

"I try." Eirika sits back against the pillows. "Go on, then."

"Fine…" L'Arachel returns her glass to the nightstand and draws her knees up to her chest. "Well, first, a lot of my nightmares involve, er…" She pauses, thinking of phrasing. "...Monica."

Eirika flinches, but quickly recovers. "Yes...I have nightmares about that too. If it makes you feel any better, everything in those chambers has been destroyed, even the wallpaper and floorboards...stripped bare to the stone, and then blessed by priests. Ephraim will probably move in there eventually, since they are the king's chambers, but we're just keeping well away for now. No trace of that monster remains."

"It is good to know that." L'Arachel draws patterns with her finger on the bedspread. "I also...I tend to see all the soldiers I couldn't save. Mostly during the war. It comes with being a healer, I suppose. I am not unaccustomed to it. But it is never an easy thing to bear."

Eirika listens quietly.

"After...after I lost my first patient, I thought I would never forget his name, or his face. I swore I would do the same for every life I ever lost. But...there are simply too many. I don't recall most of them. Part of me feels terribly guilty for it - for all of it. Not saving them, not remembering them, not even knowing who they were in many cases - it is a part of the path I have chosen, so I endure it, but I cannot ever truly feel comfortable with it."

"I don't think anybody ever does," says Eirika. "I haven't known many healers, but I am sure the best among them would feel the same. You have a kind heart, L'Arachel."

"I strive to provide them some comfort, before they go - to smile, to laugh if I can manage it. I do not know if it works, or if it make any difference, but...people have told me it does. I came to apply that mindset to...everything that I do. It comes naturally most times, but sometimes I must force it a bit, I admit it. Still, at times…" L'Arachel shakes her head. "It is hard to forget all the death I have seen."

"I know," Eirika says softly. "I know. But it isn't...it isn't just the war that haunts you, is it, L'Arachel? I can tell."

"I suppose…" L'Arachel picks at a loose thread in her pillowcase. "There is also...my parents. Sometimes I feel as if they...abandoned me. I was newly born, and yet they leapt at the first chance to leave the castle, and then they never returned, and I was never able to meet them." L'Arachel tugs at the thread. "They...left me. I...was not good enough to make them stay. To tie them down."

"I don't think they felt that way," Eirika whispers.

"I do not think that I am inadequate in my duties. I know that I do my best, and that my best is quite good. But would they have felt the same way? I do not know that. I do not know anything about them, aside from what I have been told, because I have never once met them. I would...I would give anything to have made them stay. Even if for only a few years...then at least...I could have seen their faces. There would be something to miss. But now there isn't. Only stories about a pair of great heroes, and emptiness."

Eirika puts an arm around L'Arachel. "I think they'd have been very proud of you."

"It is very kind of you to say so. But we don't know that. Nobody does. Because they are gone...and they left me behind. And I am all that remains of them, but I cannot quite bear their burdens. You said you feel as though you are trapped in the shadow of your brother...sometimes I feel the same way."

Eirika huffs out a laugh, and L'Arachel turns to her in surprise. "I'm sorry. It's just...I can't even fathom how you believe that. That someone like you could be inferior to anyone...your parents must have been the gods themselves for that to be true. It's...it's almost silly to me, how ludicrous that is."

L'Arachel pouts. "Well, then, perhaps you now have some idea of how I feel when I hear you compare yourself to your brother!"

Eirika lies back flat across the bed. "Yes...you are so good at hiding your feelings, L'Arachel, while I wear mine on my sleeve. But, deep down...we make quite the pair, don't we?"

L'Arachel lies down too, their heads side by side. "I suppose we do."

"Let's try...to be kinder to ourselves, and mean it...together." Eirika's voice echoes through the dark. "I won't compare myself to Ephraim...and you don't compare yourself to your parents. Okay?"

"That sounds like a fair bargain," says L'Arachel. "I will be holding you to it!"

Eirika rolls over onto her stomach and looks down at L'Arachel, their faces close together. The blue of her eyes sparkles in the night. "Good. We're agreed."

"You are a powerful diplomat, Princess Eirika," says L'Arachel, her laugh somewhat shaky (Eirika is _so very_ close.) "I almost pity your opponents."

Eirika gives a wicked sort of grin, a somewhat uncharacteristic expression. "I do try. Now, we should go back to sleep…"

L'Arachel reaches up and brushes a hand against Eirika's cheek. "I suppose you're right. I appreciate your comfort."

"Good, I'm glad I could help."

L'Arachel could kiss her, she knows. It would be the easiest thing in the world, to bridge the last few inches, to simply put an end to the rather painful dance she has been doing for months. But at the same time, it is the hardest thing, and cowardice wins out, and L'Arachel drops her hand. "We...we should probably get some sleep."

"You're right." Eirika lowers her head to the pillow, free of L'Arachel's hand, and the moment breaks, and L'Arachel is both relieved and dreadfully disappointed, all at once.

She should tell her.

She _will_ tell her.

Probably.

(She just has to figure out how, and when, and whether she really, truly should.)

\---

The next week or so leading up to Ephraim's return is filled with more meetings and paperwork, both of which L'Arachel tries to assist with as best as she can. During the day she and Eirika work and eat and train and spend all their time together, and at night they curl against each other and whisper secrets, and they hold each other after nightmares, and L'Arachel still doesn't tell Eirika - but there are other things! More important things! Eirika is so busy! They are both so busy!

(Her excuses are beginning to sound more and more feeble, even to herself.)

Ephraim's entourage comes riding up to the castle the morning they are expected (based on Seth's nagging, L'Arachel suspects.) Ephraim dismounts, approaching them. "Hello, Eirika! Oh, and Princess L'Arachel - I wasn't expecting to see you here."

L'Arachel curtsies. "It is lovely to see you again, Prince Ephraim."

"Welcome home, Brother." Eirika hugs Ephraim, then draws a deep breath and steps back. "When you've settled in...can we speak? There are some things I must tell you - about our future."

Ephraim looks surprised. "Oh. Of course."

Eirika, Ephraim, and L'Arachel enter a castle sitting room. Ephraim takes a seat on the sofa, still looking confused, and Eirika sits down across from him. L'Arachel stands back near the door, not intending to speak, just quietly support.

"Ephraim." Eirika draws a deep breath, and then sits up straight, back upright, expression firm. "It's not that I think you're neglecting your duties, or being unfair. But we need to talk more openly about how we're going to move forward, to reach a compromise that's comfortable for both of us."

"I'm listening, Eirika."

"I know Grado needs help. So does Renais. I know the people are struggling. I know you want to help them. But there are many ways to help them. And the people aren't happy that their king has been away for so long. I want...I want you to come home, Ephraim. Take the throne, and remain on the throne. I'm not saying you can't ever travel, or fight on the front lines...but I would like you to take a more active role in the diplomacy and management of Renais. That would make things far more bearable for me."

Ephraim is quiet for nearly a full minute. He then sighs, and shakes his head. "I've been an idiot again."

"I didn't mean - " Eirika begins, but Ephraim holds up a hand.

"No, please. I've been wandering Grado picking fights, basically. It took my actions being spelled out for me to realize it." Ephraim shakes his head. "It didn't occur to me until now, but I've been running away again. Running away from being king. I was scared, and I did what I do best - turned to battle to hide my feelings. I thought it was okay, because you were managing things in Renais, and Duessel and Knoll were helping the new queen - I thought because I was driving off a few bandits, I was still doing my part."

"You were doing good work, Ephraim."

"Not for the right reasons. You said I haven't been unfair, but I've been unfair to you, Eirika. I dumped all the responsibility I could onto you and onto Grado's queen, and then ran. I vowed to become king, but when I was actually in the throne room, I got cold feet."

"I can't say I don't share some of the blame," Eirika answers. "I was...frightened to speak up. It's not that I expected you to be unkind to me, but...I felt like I was admitting weakness, or defeat. Can we make a vow, Brother? To both be more open with one another, and be willing to tell the other if we are dissatisfied?"

"That is a good idea. Yes, Eirika. I vow to be more upfront with you, and to be more present in Renais's affairs."

Eirika nods, beaming. "That is all I can ask. Thank you, brother."

"And thank you, sister. You were the wake-up call I needed. We are both strong, but we both try still to stand on our own, when we are stronger as a united front." Ephraim rests a hand on Eirika's shoulder. "I cannot simply leave my messes for you to clean up any longer. Besides, what if you marry someone outside of the kingdom, and choose to leave to live with them?" His eyes flit over to L'Arachel for the briefest of moments before returning to Eirika, who doesn't notice. "I need to be able to manage things even if you aren't around."

"Even - even if that does happen," says Eirika, "I'll always be supporting you. Even from a distance - if you need me, I'll be there. That's what family does. And I would never turn my back on Renais, even if I were to reside elsewhere."

"Well put, sister."

"Let us spend the next weeks, until the coronation, making a more solid, concrete plan for the future," says Eirika. "It's time you became a king."

"Thank you, Eirika. For everything. I'd be nowhere without you."

The siblings hug, and L'Arachel nods with satisfaction - that is one problem resolved.

\---

The weeks leading up to the coronation are busy, but the twins rise to the occasion. The two are continuing to work out their roles in rebuilding Renais as Ephraim settles into becoming king. There are clashes, and confusion, but through Eirika and Ephraim's hard work, things are settling. Meanwhile, plans for the coronation are being finalized - decorations, attire, food, and accommodations for guests must all be settled. L'Arachel remains at Eirika's side through it all, providing all the aid she can and, above all, emotional support. Still, some days she barely sees Eirika until the latter falls into bed exhausted at past midnight, without even the strength to wish L'Arachel goodnight.

It is all to be expected, though, and eventually, the coronation is mere days away, and guests are beginning to arrive.

The Frelia delegation arrives earliest - a triangle of pegasi silhouetted by a blue sky, and once a guard spots them, Eirika, Ephraim, and L'Arachel come outside the palace doors and wave from the ground as they descend.

"Oh, we aren't the first ones here!" says Tana cheerfully, as her pegasus touches down, hooves scraping in the dirt. "Hello, Princess L'Arachel! Hello, Eirika, Ephraim!"

"Hello, Tana!" Eirika curtsies. "You're looking well."

Innes stumbles off Tana's pegasus and immediately falls to all fours, dry heaving. "Tana...why do you have to fly...so fast?"

Tana rolls her eyes as she dismounts much more gracefully. "You're just a baby. We got here ahead of schedule, right? Anyway...congratulations on your upcoming coronation, Almost-King Ephraim!" She bows. "There's a present in our bags somewhere…"

"I have it, Princess Tana," one of the green-haired pegasus knights flanking the group speaks up.

"Oh, thank you, Syrene! You remember Captain Syrene and Dame Vanessa, right? They're our bodyguards for the trip." Tana takes a parcel from the knight and passes it to Ephraim.

Ephraim bows. "Thank you for your congratulations, Tana. It is an honor to see you all."

"Very formal!" Tana claps. "Eirika drilled the etiquette stuff into your head, huh? Or maybe Seth did it. Anyway, I can't wait for the coronation! I'm here to help if you need it. Innes is, too. Right, Innes?" Innes continues to gag. "He's fine. He always plays it up."

"It is lovely to see you again, Princess Tana," says L'Arachel. "Is your pegasus doing well?"

"Oh, Achaeus? He's fine, and as you can see, flying again!" Tana gives her pegasus's nose a pet. "I didn't think he would, but when you used Latona, it fixed him right up!"

"I'm glad," says L'Arachel.

Seth steps forward, clearing his throat. "I can lead everyone's mounts to a stable, and take everyone's bags as well. And, er...we have some stomach cures in the apothecary, if it is needed?"

"If I don't need a body bag," Innes moans. Tana rolls her eyes.

"Up you get, Prince Innes," says Syrene, bending over Innes and tugging him to his feet. "I'll help you to the apothecary. Vanessa, would you help bring our pegasi to the stables? And help General Seth see to our luggage?"

"Yes, ma'am," says Vanessa, leading the pegasi over to Seth. Ephraim follows Innes and Syrene.

Tana practically bounces as she walks over to Eirika and L'Arachel. "Sooo...L'Arachel got here early, huh? What's happening here?"

"Happening?" Eirika looks puzzled. "Whatever do you mean?"

Tana's face falls into an exasperated expression. "Nothing's happened? But, Eirika! Your note included with the invitation asked me to take a guest chamber instead of sharing your room, so I just thought...Oh, never mind. I'll let you two work that out. Can I see your garden? I want to know how that's coming along! I remember how it was when we were kids…"

"Oh, certainly. There isn't much to look at, though. This way." Eirika beckons Tana, who follows her into the castle. L'Arachel stays behind, her brain stuttering slightly over Tana's words.

"L'Arachel?" Eirika pokes her head back out of the castle doors. "Are you coming?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." L'Arachel shakes herself and hurries after them. The three women walk into the garden.

"Oh, it's looking a lot nicer than when we were here during the war!" says Tana. "I'm sure the flowers will be back soon!"

"Thank you, Tana." Eirika shakes her head, smiling, as Tana investigates the garden, searching for blooms. "How have you been doing?"

"Same old, same old! Things are pretty stable in Frelia now, so I've finally managed to wheedle Father into letting me travel! After the coronation, Syrene and Innes are going back to Frelia, but Vanessa and I are going to fly to Jehanna."

"Jehanna, hm?" A wicked smile creeps its way onto Eirika's face. "Any reason in particular you chose that location? Visiting anyone?"

Tana sticks out her tongue. "Yes, Marisa, my _girlfriend_. I'm not as easy to fluster as you, Eirika. Take a hint."

Eirika shrugs, still smiling. "It was worth a try. How are things going on that front, then?"

"Really well!" Tana bounces upright. "It took awhile for us to kind of figure things out, especially long distance...but they're going well now!"

"That's nice to hear. I would, ah...like to talk to you about...well, get your advice…" Eirika drops her voice, and L'Arachel can't quite make out the next part.

"Yep, Marisa's doing great!" says Tana loudly. She then looks over at L'Arachel and winks.

L'Arachel can't fathom what they're going on about.

\---

The arrival of Empress Isobel, a few days before the coronation, is far more serious an affair. Eirika and Ephraim formally receive her delegation in the entry hall, with L'Arachel, Tana, and Innes keeping a respectful distance until it is time for introductions to be made.

Barely sixteen, Isobel is a small, fragile-looking girl, but her voice is strong and her posture steady. She does not especially resemble her distant cousin, Lyon, aside from the lavender hair she wears neatly curled and pinned high on her head. L'Arachel suspects that Isobel's petite face and figure belie steel in her bones.

"It is wonderful to have you, Queen Isobel," says Eirika, rising from her curtsey. "You honor us with your presence here."

"There is no need for any of that," says Isobel. "Renais has been a steadfast ally and guide to Grado in these last months. It is my honor to support the crowning of your new king. I am afraid Grado does not have much to spare these days, but I did bring a small token. Knoll, please." She nods to her black-robed retainer, who steps forward holding a small bag. "When we, er...cleaned out the palace, we located this. I know you were close with the late Prince Lyon - I thought you might wish to have this. It seems to have belonged to him."

Knoll hands the bag to Ephraim, who bows as he accepts. "Are you certain you do not wish to keep such a thing?"

"No, I never even met my cousin. I have no use for it. I thought it would mean more to you as a keepsake than it would to me."

"Then you have my thanks for the thoughtful gift," says Ephraim. "It is quite late - Franz, could you show our guests to their chambers?"

Franz bows and walks forward. "This way, if you would, Your Majesty."

"Thank you." Isobel follows Franz out of the entryway, Dussel and Knoll trailing behind them.

Ephraim looks back down at the bag. "A keepsake of Lyon...I can't fathom what it is." He opens it, Eirika leaning forward to see. L'Arachel stands on tiptoe to catch a glimpse - it appears to be a simple Flux tome, with a rather tattered cover.

"That...he used to study that all the time," Eirika whispers. Ephraim hands it to her, and she opens the cover to reveal a page with Lyon's name written in slightly shaky cursive. "He always...always had it with him. He said...he was never ready to try more difficult magic, as he feared combat. Until...until…"

"He didn't have it at the end. He had that dark magic the Demon King gave him," says Ephraim lowly. He shakes his head. "You can keep it, if you wish, Eirika. I've no talent for magic, as well we both know. You can at least put it to some use."

"Are you certain? Lyon used to write all his notes in here…" Eirika flips through the yellowed pages - indeed, around the margins and over the ancient magic script is more of the unsteady-looking handwriting, though L'Arachel can't read it from where she stands.

"No, no...you take it. Please. It's late...I'm going to retire." Ephraim heads off towards the bedchambers. Tana and Innes filter out as well, goodnights echoing through the room. L'Arachel tentatively approaches Eirika, who is still standing stock-still in the middle of the room, slowly turning the pages of Lyon's old tome.

"Eirika," says L'Arachel tentatively. "Are you...well?"

"Well enough, I was just...lost in anamnesis, I suppose." Eirika runs a finger over what appears to be a line of notes about proper form when holding a lance.

"Er...Ana…"

"Exactly. Lyon and Ephraim and I, when we were studying together in Grado...we once played a game, trying to stump the others with difficult vocabulary words. Ephraim was out almost at once...I got him with 'effervescent.'" Eirika smiles to herself, shaking her head. "But Lyon and I went back and forth for nearly an hour before he got me...with 'anamnesis.' It means...remembrance. It's a word I always associate with him. It used...to be a happy word. But now, to me, it's become a word for regret."

"You know you did all you could for him," says L'Arachel.

"I know that. And, truly, I have made peace with my own actions. But I am...truthfully, I am angry sometimes. At Lyon. His actions that led to the Demon King taking hold of him...had he merely reached out to us for help, or to our father, we would have helped him in an instant. We were friends! How could he think we wouldn't? But his foolish pride drove him to seek his own solution...and now he is dead. His father's death, the earthquake...such things were not preventable. But we could have helped him through them, and helped Grado, but he was too ashamed of his own weakness…" Eirika shakes her head. "He was always like that. I tried to help him with his swordplay, but he would get caught up on my outdoing him and refuse to go further. He always wanted to impress me, never let me see his bad side...to the point of dishonesty, at times. And...sometimes, the Demon King's words, and his too...they haunt me. Do you recall...do you recall what they said about me?"

"Lyon...had feelings for you," says L'Arachel softly.

"Not just that…I remember every word. They are burned into my mind. _'I am about to make your dreams come true for you. I am about to crush Prince Ephraim and take Princess Eirika for my own.'_ Like I was...some sort of prize, a trophy, something Ephraim possessed and he desired. It...disgusted me, repulsed me. It reminded me of Orson, and what he did - the idea of _taking_ someone as an item and _owning_ them - " Eirika breaks off. She is gripping Lyon's old tome so tightly her knuckles are white. "Perhaps it is unfair to Lyon's memory. We all...we all have dark desires that we would never act upon. But sometimes, I cannot remember Lyon without thinking of that desire."

"That is only human, Eirika. Hardly your fault."

"I know. I know that. Still...his memory is tainted now. Much as I wish for it to not be so...I am frustrated with Lyon. His cowardice, his greed...I comforted him, as he died...as the real him died. But I was not being wholly truthful with him. I was angry with him, yes - but he was dying, and he felt guilty, so I pushed that anger away."

"It is a tragedy," says L'Arachel slowly. "He possessed great gifts, and he was blessed with incredible friends - but he could not see such things, and drove himself to desperation trying to find something impossible. And even as it is a tragedy - you were a victim of that tragedy as well, Eirika. I think you have the right to feel however you do about it - that does not besmirch his memory."

Eirika sighs, looking down at the tome. "That is...a good way of putting it. You are always...so wise, L'Arachel."

"I strive to be so," says L'Arachel, her tone serious. "I do not understand Lyon, either, I must confess. I, too, have resented him for his actions, was repulsed by his and the Demon King's words - I too, found his desires abhorrent. I cannot put myself wholly in your shoes - but I can imagine your confusion and struggle is far, far worse than mine. I did not know him, let alone love him."

Eirika shakes her head. "I did not love him, not the way he loved me. But even if I had, even if I had wanted to be his...I would never have _belonged_ to him."

"I didn't mean to imply that...only that you were close friends," says L'Arachel hastily.

"No, I know that, I just...it feels as though everyone assumes I loved him the way he did me. I didn't. I have...I have never loved a man in such a fashion," says Eirika, her cheeks growing pink. "But nobody bothers asking me - they all just figured I would marry either Innes or Lyon when I grew up. What I wanted...was irrelevant. I hadn't realized that Lyon felt that way...and truthfully, even thinking about it makes me rather uncomfortable."

"Then we needn't discuss it," says L'Arachel gently. "What do you want to do with that book?"

"I'll hold onto it for now," says Eirika, flipping the book over and glancing at its back cover. "I studied a bit of dark magic in Grado, though I've no cause to use it, and I always preferred the sword. Father MacGregor showed me how...but he is gone now. Ephraim says he was executed for opposing the Demon King. Even looking at this book...it only reminds me of those days, and the anamnesis is...painful. Regardless, one day, when the wounds are less fresh, I'd like to have this tome, if only as a memento."

"That sounds good," says L'Arachel. "And, ah, Eirika...I have, er, never loved a man, either. Or felt any interest in one, to be fair."

Eirika's head snaps up to look at her. "Um, er, L'Arachel...what about women?"

L'Arachel turns bright red. "That is...a rather different story."

"Oh." Eirika's voice is a squeak. "That's nice to know. I mean, uh...me, too."

They stare at each other, frozen in place, knowledge having clicked into both their minds. L'Arachel's voice is tremulous when she speaks again. "Would you, ah...have any interest in having a romantic relationship at all? With a woman, I mean?"

"If…" Eirika's face is even redder than L'Arachel's feels. "If it was...the right woman."

"I see."

Another tension-laden moment of silence hangs between them.

"Lady L'Arachel, are you still in here?" Dozla walks into the room, and L'Arachel is simultaneously terribly disappointed and terribly relieved. "...Ah. Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, nothing at all," says Eirika, dropping her eyes. "I'm going...to head to bed. Goodnight, both of you." She retreats down the hall.

L'Arachel's shoulders slump when Eirika is out of sight. Dozla notices, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Princess? I feel I've barely seen you since we've been here. Which is to be expected, ga ha ha! You haven't seen Princess Eirika in so long, after all! But you seem rather gloomy right now."

"Dozla…I am a coward," L'Arachel says lowly, staring at the door Eirika has disappeared through. "There is nothing...no reason not to tell her. Her duties keep her busy, but so will mine. Her work is hard, but I can help her with it. The distance is great, but there are ways to bridge it. And she is even...willing to be in a relationship with another woman. The only unknown factor...is whether she is willing to be in a relationship with _me_. And I can never know that unless I ask, but the asking is so very frightening."

"Oh, Lady L'Arachel." Dozla pats her shoulder. "These things can be scary! That's natural! You have nothing to fear, though."

"I should just do it," L'Arachel whispers. "But the thought of no longer having her in my life is...terrifying. If she rejects me, and our friendship shatters...I do not know if I could bear it. As a friend, I can at least be by her side. If I lose that…"

"I don't think you're in as much danger of losing that as you think," says Dozla thoughtfully. "Princess Eirika isn't the sort to do such a thing."

"But…" L'Arachel twists her hands together. "But...I so fear rejection, Dozla. Choosing someone so inconvenient, someone the lords of Renais will likely not approve of, a foreigner, another woman, someone from far across the continent…Why would she choose me?"

"It's unlike you to speak in such a way, Princess." Dozla's voice is low and gentle. "I know you struggle with inner demons from time to time, but I've never heard you so unsteady. Now, your question is a difficult sounding one, but I think I've figured out an answer for you!" His eyes twinkle as he lifts a finger, almost conspiratorially. "Because of _love_ , Princess. If she chooses you, it's because she loves you. You two are good for each other, a strong match, and you love each other. The rest...the rest you can be work out. It'll be hard, and gritty at times, I'm sure. But I bet the two of you can do it. You've done harder!"

L'Arachel drops her eyes. "And...if she doesn't love me?"

"I've got a hunch that isn't the case, Lady L'Arachel. But if it is...then you'll pick yourself back up, and you'll keep going forward, and one day you'll find a lady who does. And I bet you and Eirika'll stay the best of friends regardless. That sounds like a pretty decent outcome, hm?"

L'Arachel hugs herself. "You make it all sound...simple."

"Oh, it isn't! Not at all!" Dozla guffaws. "But no need to fret, Princess L'Arachel. People are complicated. I don't even understand half of what they say to me, most of the time! But that doesn't mean you shouldn't bother with 'em."

"You are much wiser than you act, Dozla." L'Arachel sighs. "Thank you. I suppose...when you lay it all out, I have been a tad silly, haven't I?"

"Gwa ha ha! Just a bit, Lady L'Arachel! Just a bit!" Dozla winks. "Don't worry about it! That's what old Dozla's here for. Bodyguarding, helping out, and general wisdom! Now, I've gotten friendly with one of the cooks here, and apparently there's a few spare cookies from the newest batch for the coronation feast waiting for us if we go to the right place…"

"A quest! Let us embark, then!"

As the two head off in the direction of the kitchens, L'Arachel mulls over Dozla's words.

Right now, Eirika is swamped with coronation work, but if, perhaps, L'Arachel can get her alone the night of the coronation...well, she'll give it some thought.

\---

The morning of Ephraim's coronation dawns, bright and sunny. The day is spent making all the last-minute preparations necessary, readying the room where the ball will be held, and arranging for the last of the decorations to be put into place. The castle is awhirl with activity and bustle, the twins running back and forth to finish up everything in time for that evening, and all the guests residing in the palace offering as much aid as they can.

The High Priest of Renais Church, an older woman with twinkling eyes who rather reminds L'Arachel of Saaga, arrives at mid-afternoon to prepare for the crowning ceremony, rehearsing with Ephraim in the throne room to ensure all will go well. Eirika checks over the seating, the menu, the music, and every last detail, racing between throne room and ballroom as she ensures everything is perfect as can be.

L'Arachel, for her part, assists in what ways she can - she avoids the kitchens, recalling a rather dreadful incident in her youth in which she had tried to prepare her uncle's birthday cake - instead, she helps clean, adjust, and decorate, and ropes Rennac and Dozla into doing this as well.

"Remind me why we're doing this when this castle has servants?" Rennac grouses from atop a ladder as he hangs silk streamers from a high window.

"A little to your right, Rennac - the castle staff is already quite swamped! It is our duty as guests to help make this night run as smoothly as possible." L'Arachel eyes a flower arrangement critically, carefully adjusting a spring of baby's breath. "There, much better."

Dozla emerges from under a tablecloth. "Dust bunnies have been eradicated!"

"Good, good!" L'Arachel fusses over the next arrangement.

"Streamers are done," says Rennac, climbing down the ladder. "Thank god."

"It all looks lovely. Thank you all," says Eirika, walking into the room. She looks a bit frazzled, but she has been quite resilient through all the day's fuss. "The guests are going to start arriving in about an hour - you should all go get dressed and prepared."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Rennac sidles out of the room.

"Really, you all have my thanks - okay, bye, Rennac." Eirika shakes her head, but she is smiling.

"It's the very least we can do, after you've been hosting us!" says L'Arachel. "Well, off to change into our finest we go!"

She and Eirika head back to Eirika's quarters. Eirika insists L'Arachel take the bathing room first, so L'Arachel hurries through her bath to leave time for Eirika. They detangle and dry each other's hair while sitting in their slips, and it reminds L'Arachel of another time in a Jehanna inn, not terribly long ago.

Eirika opens her wardrobe and removes L'Arachel's gown, passing it to her, before taking her own dress off the rack. "I can't even remember the last time I dressed this formally…"

"Well, try to enjoy it!" says L'Arachel cheerfully as she changes. "It's a day of celebration, after all."

"Very true." There is rustling from behind L'Arachel as Eirika puts the dress on. "I am glad you are here with me to celebrate, L'Arachel."

"And I am glad to be celebrating with you! This is a new beginning for not only Renais, but all of Magvel! Ah, could you help me with the buttons?" L'Arachel calls over her shoulder.

"Just a moment." Eirika comes up behind L'Arachel and begins fastening the buttons on the back of her dress's bodice. "Yes...this will be a new era. I hope it is a good one."

"Oh, I am certain it will be! The bards will sing stories of our heroics!" L'Arachel sits down at the vanity to work on her hair; behind her, Eirika is brushing hers in the mirror.

The next few minutes pass quietly as both women prepare themselves. Eventually, Eirika's voice comes from behind L'Arachel as the latter is fastening her earrings. "How do I look?"

L'Arachel turns in her seat, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes settle on Eirika. Her long hair is loose, shimmering in the evening sunlight filtering through the window. Her dress is fairly simple for a princess, red and gold as Eirika always prefers, but where L'Arachel's eyes are drawn is Eirika's collarbone - without a high collar, one can clearly see Eirika's ruby necklace shining there.

L'Arachel swallows. "You look beautiful. As you always do. And I?"

Eirika blushes. "Beautiful, as well. Your hair looks lovely."

L'Arachel touches a hand to her pinned-up curls. "Thank you! It is the first time I've done something this formal without an attendant's assistance." She gets to her feet, brushing down the wide skirts of her gown. "There is...something I would like to speak with you about, tonight. It can wait until after the ceremony, but...sometime tonight? Alone?"

Eirika blinks. "Ah, yes…of course. Whenever you wish. I, was, er...wanting to speak with you tonight, as well." She to shake herself. "I'll need to put in a decent appearance at the ball, but perhaps around midnight I'll be free?"

"That sounds lovely! Please don't fret too much." L'Arachel can feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, but she manages to smile regardless. "Shall we head to the throne room, then?"

Eirika nods. "Yes, let's."

\---

Ephraim's coronation ceremony is lovely. The rites are performed, the blessings said, the vows taken, and at the end of it all, the crown of Renais is glimmering on his head.

"Thank you all for attending," says Ephraim, rising to his feet and coming to stand at the front of the dias. "I am so grateful for everyone's help and support - both during the war, and after. I vow to be a king my father would have been proud of - the king all of you deserve. I vow to lead Renais with a hand that is both kind and strong. I vow to, alongside my fellow monarchs, help lead this continent towards a beautiful future. I vow to always keep the hopes and dreams of my people foremost in my heart, and to restore the kingdom I hold so dear. With all of you by my side, I know that I can do it.

"There is one more thing. I would, most of all, like to thank my sister, Princess Eirika." Ephraim indicates where Eirika is seated behind him, her face a picture of surprise. "Without her aid, and her guidance, I would never be standing before you today. Her courage and leadership during the war is what saw this continent safely through a terrible disaster. No matter where she goes, she will always be in my heart, and I will always be proud of her. I hope to make her proud of me, as well. Now, I'm sure all of you are tired of listening to speeches, so...I will be leading everyone to the ballroom where the reception will be held. Let us celebrate Renais, Magvel, and our bright future!"

The room breaks out in applause and cheering. Eirika, wiping her eyes, rises from her seat, walks over to Ephraim, and hugs him. The twins then descend the dias and lead the party to the ballroom.

A band, seated on the ballroom stage, strikes up a lively tune when the group steps inside. The tables against the walls are laden with food, several small circular tables scattered about the dance floor for people to sit. The party fans out across the room, many hurrying to Ephraim to offer him congratulations.

L'Arachel walks over to Eirika, who is still a little bit teary, although smiling brightly. "Congratulations, Eirika! You've done well."

Eirika laughs. "Isn't it Ephraim you should be congratulating?"

L'Arachel waves a hand. "He's a bit swarmed right now. I shall be sure to offer my congrats to him as well. But you worked so hard for this day as well, Eirika. You should be proud!"

"I am," says Eirika. "So very proud...of both him, and myself. Is that fair?"

"Certainly!" L'Arachel beams.

Eirika dabs at her eyes again. "He'd practiced his speech for me, but hadn't told me about that second part...it's a bit embarrassing, but I think I would've cried anyway."

"No need for shame, dearest. It makes perfect sense to me."

"Ho ho ho! Congratulations, Princess Eirika!" Dozla roars, looking rather awkward in his dress clothes.

"Yeah, congrats," says Rennac, tugging at his own collar.

"Thank you to the both of you," says Eirika. "It's been lovely having you here."

"And it's been lovely to be here!" Dozla booms. "Now, I'd like to take a closer look at those canapes…"

\---

The party is in full swing within the next few hours, people dancing, mingling, and laughing. It is a far cry from the rather stuffy parties held during formal occasions that L'Arachel attended as a child. Though, some of that is likely due to the attendees, L'Arachel thinks, watching Prince Innes lose in a card game to King Joshua (who had perhaps concealed the deck up his sleeve during the ceremony?) and Princess Tana and Queen Isobel dancing gleefully together. Dozla is happily having a drink with Sir Forde, Sir Kyle, and General Seth, the former two laughing uproariously while the latter two are sharing matching grimaces. General Duessel is shaking his head as he watches them, but he is smiling. Knoll is speaking quietly with Elder Klimt of Carcino. The newly-crowned King Ephraim is dancing with Sister Natasha. Warmth and laughter fills the room like a soothing balm, like the Latona staff itself.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Eirika whispers, walking up beside L'Arachel. "Everyone together, happy and peaceful, from so many different countries...this is what I dream the whole continent can have, one day."

"It's a beautiful dream," says L'Arachel. "One I am happy to work alongside you to achieve."

Eirika smiles and lifts her glass. "Together, then. As always."

Just then, the band's song comes to an end. The one that strikes up next is slow, gentle, almost like a lullaby. Soft, and decidedly romantic. Ephraim leaps away from Sister Natasha, who laughs a little as Joshua walks up beside her.

"Princess Eirika," says L'Arachel softly, "would you give me the honor of this dance?"

Eirika's cheeks color, and she nods, setting her drink down on a nearby table. "It would be my honor."

They step onto the dance floor together, their footsteps light and delicate. L'Arachel takes Eirika's waist as Eirika rests a hand on L'Arachel's shoulder, their free hands intertwining, and they step slowly across the room as the music drifts around them.

It feels as though they are alone, even in this crowded room. They weave around the other couples, but L'Arachel takes no notice of them. Only Eirika, her eyes shining in the soft golden light of the chandelier, only Eirika, whose hands are sure and steady, only Eirika, who walks with her now, as she always has.

The song comes to an end, and they do not part, even as those around them do. L'Arachel looks up into Eirika's face, and though she is scared, she feels certain, more certain than she has, perhaps, ever in her life.

"Eirika…would you come with me? To the garden, perhaps?"

"Yes." Eirika's voice is soft, and a bit tentative, but there is no hesitation in the speed of her answer.

They slip through the ballroom door together. Eirika's hand does not leave L'Arachel's.

Dozla watches them go, and winks to the band conductor, who winks back, tucking a small handful of Rausten coins into his suit pocket.

\---

They walk their usual path to the palace garden, their hands still entwined, and step out into the moonlight together. L'Arachel turns to face Eirika, taking her free hand so she is holding both of them in front of her.

"There is something I wish to tell you," says L'Arachel. "Something I have wished to tell you for quite some time now."

"I wanted to tell you something, too," Eirika answers. Her thumb runs over L'Arachel's fingers. "But...you go first."

L'Arachel draws a deep breath. Time stretches out, and shortens, and spirals, the air around her is tight and suffocating - but if she keeps her eyes on Eirika, everything remains steady, grounded. The ruby on Eirika's neck glints in the moon's gentle rays, and it is something about that sight that gives L'Arachel the last bit of courage she needs.

"There was something I was not entirely honest with you about," says L'Arachel. "The ruby I gave you...it had more meaning than I told you about. I was, at the time, too frightened, too uncertain to do so. But now...now I am certain. The ruby is traditionally given...as a symbol of devotion. Of love."

Eirika inhales sharply.

"You...you're beautiful," L'Arachel says. Her voice is scarcely above a whisper, and Eirika is looking at her with rapt attention, like she doesn't want to miss a single word. It is like gazing into the sun, but L'Arachel forces herself not to look away. "You always...I always thought that you were beautiful, from the first time I saw you in those cliffs. But I...I had no idea, simply none at all, who you truly were. I realized that you were beautiful, that you were nobility, that I had...an _interest_ in you, but I cannot say I fell for you then. But fate brought us together, time and again, and then...then I was able to meet you. And that was when I learned...how incredible you are. How kind, how caring, how gentle, how true of heart - and how impossibly strong." Eirika's lips part at that, but she stops herself before speaking, and L'Arachel takes a shaky breath and continues. "You are...a wonderful, amazing woman, Eirika. Sometimes it seems as if you haven't the faintest idea of it, but it is truth, the surest truth I have ever spoken. You are deadly, and fierce, and you can do anything you set your mind to. Even when you are filled with doubt, and fear, and sorrow...you never avert your eyes from the truth. You never stop moving forward, even if it is across burning coals, or an infinite sea. You have struggled, and fought, and suffered, and through it all, your kind heart has stayed so, and your will has remained unbroken. You do not even realize, somehow, just...just how incredible that is.

"I have never...never met a person like you, Eirika. I don't believe that I ever will again. I cannot bear to hear you insult yourself, to say you are replaceable, when the truth is...you are far, far too precious to be replaced by anyone, or anything. I became aware of that as I spent time fighting and learning and laughing and growing alongside you. I learned of your strength, and your kindness, and your dedication, and your determination, and...as I learned more and more about you, I...I fell deeply, truly in love with you."

A single tear traces its way down Eirika's cheek.

"I cannot begin to describe it. It happened so quickly, and so slowly, and sometimes it feels like...like I always loved you. Like I cannot remember a life before loving you. And that is silly, and makes little sense, but I am certain of it. You are so very, very dear to me," L'Arachel's voice breaks, but she steadies it, "and I do not...I do not want to spend another day without telling you that. I...There are so many things more I could say, about how desperately I love you, but I cannot...I cannot choose between them. I love you, Eirika. I have for a long time now."

Eirika bows her head. Tears are falling down her face. L'Arachel waits, in the impossible silence. The only sounds are those of Eirika's shuddering breaths and her own pounding heart.

"I…" The sound of Eirika's voice makes L'Arachel's heart nearly stop. Eirika lets out a small, watery chuckle. "How am I supposed to follow that?" She shakes her head, and lifts it, and L'Arachel sees that she is smiling. "You...you always make things impossible. In the best way." She takes a deep breath.

"L'Arachel, I...I...when I first met you, I could see that...you were very far from common," Eirika says, with a hint of a laugh in her voice. L'Arachel matches her smile, her heart sparking with fondness at the memory. "And I was...amazed by you, at first. You seemed so...effortless. Your confidence, your poise, your beauty, your boundless optimism...I admit, sometimes it overwhelmed me. But you were always so... _honest_. So open. Even when you hid your identity, you were still always...yourself. You were always L'Arachel. Unabashedly, and unashamedly. I...I found myself trusting you, wholeheartedly, when we'd barely even met. But I couldn't help it, somehow. You were...a light, my light in the darkness, guiding me. When I felt I couldn't go on...you were always there, somehow. You speak of my determination, but I couldn't have done it alone. I don't know if I could have done it without you, and your guidance, and your kindness, and your shoulder to cry upon. When you were around, it was as if the darkness couldn't touch me, no matter how it tugged. I...I missed you dearly, when we were apart. I could scarcely bear it. Part of me wanted to run to Rausten right then, just to see you. And when you came here again...it was like I was bathed in light.

"You are incredible, L'Arachel. Divine blessings or not...I am simply amazed by you. You are...wise, and heartfelt, and…you are such a goodhearted person, so steadfast, so loyal, so truehearted, so supportive, so very much...yourself." Eirika draws a shuddering breath. "I have...I have fallen in love with you. I don't know when it was, or how it started. Perhaps it was when I bared my soul to you in the remnants of my childhood home. Perhaps it was when you held me, in Rausten, when it felt like my heart was going to split in two. Perhaps it was when I saw you cry for the first time, and realized how hard you work to appear carefree. Perhaps it was when you helped me find the strength to stand up for myself, a strength I didn't know I had. Perhaps it was the very first time you gave your hand to me, and asked if I would ride with you. I do not...I do not know. But, now, the fact remains...L'Arachel, I am in love with you. I...I would be yours. If you would have me. Now, and always."

The wind rustles around their ears, lifting Eirika's hair. It shimmers under the moon, impossibly beautiful. For an instant, the two women simply gaze at each other.

L'Arachel blinks away her tears. She can't find any words at all, no matter how she tries, even though she is reaching for them - she is utterly speechless. That is, truly, a first. But her expression says all she needs to say, and so does Eirika's, in that wordless instant.

L'Arachel steps a bit closer, lifts a hand to Eirika's cheek, wiping away the tears there. Eirika slowly raises a hand to cover hers, their fingers intertwining. L'Arachel tilts her head, a wordless question, and Eirika understands, and nods. They both lean forward, slowly, gently, L'Arachel lifting her other hand to cup Eirika's face, and then their lips meet.

It is soft and hesitant, like everything exchanged tonight in this moon-draped courtyard has been. Eirika's arms wrap around L'Arachel's waist, and L'Arachel's arms slip around Eirika's neck, and they kiss.

L'Arachel pulls back, for the barest moment. "Eirika...will you come back to Rausten with me?"

"I'll need to make arrangements," Eirika whispers into the night. "But...yes. Yes, always yes - I will go back with you. To Rausten, together." She leans in, and kisses L'Arachel again, and L'Arachel's heart is soaring, free and bright.

She is unbelievably, indescribably happy. And from the soft smile she can taste on Eirika's lips - she is not the only one.

Above them, the moon shines, illuminated with golden light.

\---

"It's a lovely day to travel, isn't it?" L'Arachel calls over her shoulder. The sun is glowing over the horizon of the Renais plains, stretching out ahead of them, infinite, filled with possibilities.

Eirika rides up beside her. "It is." The wind is blowing both their hair and the manes of their horses. Behind them, Dozla's laughter and Rennac's grumbles are carrying on the warm air.

"I am eager to bring you home. Uncle is dying to meet you, and I'm certain he'll want to learn all about our time in Renais together. There is so much I wish to show you!" L'Arachel turns to face Eirika, beaming. "Shall we?"

"Let's...go home, then. To Rausten, and beyond." Eirika's smile is brighter than the sun, and warmer.

"Wherever we need to be, or wish to be…" L'Arachel says softly. "We'll see it all. Together."

Together, they ride into the morning light.

\---

**_L'Arachel, Queen of Light_ **

**_Eirika, Restoration Queen_ **

_L'Arachel succeeded her uncle as ruler of the Rausten Theocracy several years after the war ended, with her wife Eirika ever at her side. The queens spent much of their rule visiting the neighboring countries, and often said that home was wherever they were together. Seeing peace return to the lives of their people filled them with happiness. L'Arachel was often heard to say that Eirika's smile was a symbol of their people's joy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading all that! When I said slow burn, I meant slow burn. It was...pretty scary to post this, tbh, it's been my brain-baby for nearly two years and it was scary enough to write down, let alone to let it go! I may someday write a (much shorter!) sequel in this same universe, but nothing's set in stone.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, and thanks again! :)


End file.
